


If this was a movie, we'd ride into sunset in the end, I'm sure.

by thekingsparty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Prison, Crobby - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape, Violence, it's still a maybe on the Dean/Chuck but a big possibility
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:52:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingsparty/pseuds/thekingsparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(UPDATE Apr. 03 2017 - This fic has not been dropped, just have been dealing with writer's block esp. for Crowley, but 12x15 fixed that, so will be updating asap. )<br/>PRISON AU!<br/>Crowley arrives in USP Texas. It's hot, sandy and Crowley hates it before he even stepped inside. Also, Alastair is his cellmate and keeps trying to get his hands on him to which Crowley politely refuses.<br/>He meets a nice grumpy guy who always wears a cap, even in prison, in the library who teaches him the way of the prison and they more or less become friends, maybe more? You'll see.<br/>Alastair has found an interest in the exotic new guy in his cell and together with his gang (Zach, Urial, Virgil etc), they make life for Crowley in prison especially hard.<br/>(I suck at summaries)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the pit

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING! Do not read if you're triggered easily. I've planned to have this turn out ugly. Only up to a certain point, but it will be.
> 
> Main pairing is Crobby.  
> Before those two idjits find their way, there'll be non-con Crowley/Alastair, non-con Crowley/M/M.  
> ...you get the drift. 
> 
> Plus, I have never written fan fiction before. I mean, not in a canon-ish way. Until now, I just wrote my own stories, using my own characters. 
> 
> Last thing: Sorry for the Alistairs in-between. My autocorrect hates me and I think I missed some.

 

[ ](http://imgur.com/lVLI4O2)

The sun burned bright, unrelenting and hot as the dark-brown bus fought its way through the desert. The road was covered in a thick layer of sand and the wind whirled tiny little corns through the air, of which three quarters definitely landed in Crowley’s mouth and nose. He coughed, grunting and cursing under his breath.

He was supposed to stay (and live?) in a place like that?

 

**Forever?**

 

If he had known he’d end up like that, he would’ve just _slapped_  his father and uncle and left. He lost the company now anyway. 28 years. He’d worked so hard, day and night to build his empire and two greedy old men could just take it from him. Just like that. Shareholders. Who invented shares and managing boards anyway? One weak moment and he’d pay for the rest of his life.

Crowley wasn’t even sad or afraid, not yet anyway, no. He was angry. So very angry at himself, his family, his runaway wife, the law, the fact he’d been too stupid to remain calm and ignore the mocking of his father. He should’ve just shrugged it off, as he always did. But no, he had to be all emotional and short-tempered. _It was his own fault._ If anything, he should’ve killed himself as soon as he saw the cops pointing their guns at him, commanding he let go of the axe. That would've been the right choice.

The brunet wasn’t insane or a maniac. Yes, he did use an axe to kill two men, but only because it was there (only a few steps from where he stood and behind a glass window) and he was too weak to fight two other men all by himself. He was honest. He wasn’t the most... _skilled_ fighter, not at all. Fighting was for cavemen. At least to him it was.

 

Only two more people were on the bus, which was hilarious all in itself. A huge bus like that, four guards, a driver and only three convicts. He knew the name of one of the others. Gabriel. Stupid idiot wouldn’t shut up. Kept babbling the whole 6 hours they drove. Crowley wasn’t sure if he liked the constant noise or if it was annoying, he really didn’t know, but figured prison would be quiet enough depending on which cellmate he'd be assigned to.

God, he hoped he didn’t end up with an idiot. Someone quiet would be best. He just wanted to live the rest of his life in peace and without having to deal with anything else ever again. _He was done._

The bus came to a halt and Crowley swallowed hard at the sight. The prison looked even worse than he’d imagined. He knew he was sent to a high-security facility, given the fact he had murdered two people, but the prison they now parked in front of looked like one from those horrible low-budget movies. Let them have community shower sessions and an outdoor activity area called _the yard_ and Crowley would seriously consider hanging himself with his t-shirt.

The guard yelled something at them, but he had his face stuffed with donuts so Crowley didn't catch much of it, but Gabriel and the other guy stood quickly, chains rustling, and walked towards the guard, so Crowley figured he was supposed to do the same, which he did. Why did he have to be sent to a prison in Texas anyway? It’s not like there were only two penitentiaries in the US. Bloody lawyers and borders.

They were led inside the facility, had to get through three electrical fences -- as if one wasn’t enough-- another huge metallic gate and reached the yard. Crowley took a few looks around, frowning a little as he saw the other convicts. He looked ridiculous compared to them. He was only 5’10 and his six-pack had seen better days, but at least talkative Gabriel was shorter than him. Now probably wasn't the time for that, but Crowley couldn't help his survival instinct trying to find an actual  _bright_ side in all this.

The inside looked just as miserable as it did on the outside. White, dirty walls and barred windows that barely let sunlight through. There was bright white, artificial light that already stung in his eyes, making him blink rapidly.

The three of them were walked to a small room in which they lost the shackles around their ankles and were given their clothes. Orange. _Seriously?_ Now, he really was stuck in some prison movie. There would just have to be some mafia boss in his cell, telling him to smuggle his stuff or he wasn't going to see the next day. Crowley sighed, though a small smirk was on his lips at the thought. _Reg. No. 247873._ That’s who he was from now on. He’d die in a bloody prison as a bloody number. Bloody perfect. Well at least he wasn't sent to prison for _stealing a loaf of bread_. A small chuckle, at nobody in particular, earned him a glare from one of the guards, but Crowley shrugged it off, frowning as he saw dark red dust trickle down his shoulders. Damn desert.

“Will we have to sing sad songs about the lack of freedom and sunshine now?”, Gabriel spoke up, smirking at one of the guards, just to be ignored. Crowley chuckled quietly, clutching the clothes to his chest as he took in his surroundings. A long concrete corridor connected the cellblocks, yard and main entrance. Well, technically, it connected the main entrance and public lobby and the public lobby led to the cellblocks, which led to the yard.

Bars everywhere. Pretty.

More concrete walls. No colour, no nothing. Not even pictures of the _Guard of the month_. Shame.

Crowley was shoved into a small room, one guard closing the door behind him. He figured the same was about to happen o the other two. Gabriel and.. whomever. He was told to undress and now the uncomfortable part of his stay in prison began. After being thoroughly examined –-of course he’d comment every now and then-- he was led back to the others, now all in orange uniforms and he could swear he saw loud, little Gabriel shudder.  

**Next stop, cells.**

The public lobby didn’t look to comfortable, but still, he’d be glad to have someone visit him once in a while. Foolish dream. He'd beheaded his father, nobody of his family would come and see him. And he had nobody else. He didn’t need anybody to come see him anyway. He was good on his own. “Halt.”, Crowley blinked and stopped, bumping into Gabriel.

“ ’Scuse me.”, he mumbled, taking a step back and looking at the guard apologetically, frowning slightly.

“ ‘s all good.”, came the response. “Dreamy view, isn’t it?”, he smirked, wiggling an eyebrow.

Crowley rolled his eyes, but smirked slightly, jumping a little at the loud buzzer of the barred gate in front of him. _Cellblock, hello._ He sighed quietly as he was pushed forwards. Uh, kitchen. Dayroom. Another dayroom. Hey, one more dayroom. Looks like they won’t have too little dayrooms to … have fun in. He wondered if they'd be able to just stay in the dayrooms without supervision.

The third one of them still hadn’t said a word and was the first one to be sent into a cell, had to turn his back to the bars to have the handcuffs taken off.

A few cells later, Gabriel was shoved into his. “Oh, hi.”, he cheered, waving at his cellmate. Crowley turned to look at him. Looked a little older than him. Beard, grey hair, the same orange uniform. Well built, though he was a little big around his stomach --not that Crowley minded in the slightest. He hardly looked up from his book. Grumpy, but smiled a little at the short and cheerful guy about to move in, rumbling a low _hello_.

Crowley just hoped he’d get a more or less nice cellmate like that. It’d make the stay a little more bearable. “Get in.”, the guard ordered and the brunet did as he was told, already feeling uncomfortable with the eyes of his mate on him. A light shudder crawled up his spine. _Perfect._ He got the creepy one. “Turn around.”, he nodded and did as he was told, again, and with a light tug and click, the cuffs were gone and Crowley let out a relieved sigh, rubbing his wrists. He'd been in them for so long, his wrists were rubbed almost raw, the skin irritated.

His cellmate stood in front of the bunk bed by now, smirking at him –-creepily. “Alastair.”, he held out his hand and Crowley hesitated for a short moment before he shook it, smiling a little.

“Crowley.”, he replied, eyes shifting around the cell. Iron bunk bed, sink, toilet, a little drawer with a few books on it.

“First day in the 5-star hotel?”, the other chuckled. His voice sounded raspy, but still far more nasal than he would've thought. Still, something about that guy made Crowley want to ask for another cell immediately. Maybe the eyes. He sighed and turned to look at him. He was taller than Crowley, definitely taller –-which wasn’t too hard anyway-- lean, but looked bulky in a way, thinning grey hair, grey beard, long, oval face and cheekbones that threatened to stab everybody who looked at them twice. “Except for the three weeks I spent in Jefferson county jail, yep.”, he nodded. “So, will we have to argue about who sleeps in which bunk bed now?”, he joked, grinning a little.

“Well, I’ve slept and sweat on the upper bed, so I don’t think you wanna sleep there. Unless you wanna fight… we can.”, he snarled, shrugging.

Crowley nodded and picked up the pile of sheets that had been set on the floor, almost greetingly and laid it on his mattress.

“So, what are you in for?”, the other spoke up again, sinister smirk still covering his face as he spoke and his eyes followed Crowley wherever he went.

“Guess the same thing 90% of the others are in for.”, Crowley shrugged, grabbing his pillow to put the sheets on while he sat on the mattress and avoided the other's eyes as best as he could.

“Oh, I doubt that.”, Alastair chuckled, voice throaty and nasal. “People here are in for various reasons. Well, murder it is for mostly everyone, but the _how_ is always the most interesting part, isn't it?”, he smirked, leaning down with face close to Crowley’s who fought the urge to back off.  “Given you’re in here, you didn’t kill whomever by reading a fairy tale to them.”, he hummed and sniffed Crowley. _What the- ? Why would he sniff him?_

“I, uh, I’m tired. You mind?”, he asked, nodding towards the hand that had grabbed Crowley’s sheets.

“Sure.”, he nodded and let go, leaning on the upper mattress, eyes still on Crowley, hardly even blinking. “You’ll get how things work around here soon.”, he winked with a smirk and hopped up on his mattress, bed creaking miserably.

The brunette shuddered and rolled so he was facing the wall, resting his head against the cool concrete. Crowley would have to make sure to stay as far away from his friendly cellmate as humanly possible. He had a bad feeling.

Very bad.

So bad he didn’t dare fall asleep all night, only to be woken or not by the guards, thrashing their truncheons against the metal bars of the cells. “Morning, beauty.”, came a snarl from behind Crowley who’d been staring at the bars.

“Wha- morning.”, he rumbled, only shortly turning to look at the other. He ran his hands through his hair, massaging his scalp and rubbed his eyes.

He stood and stretched, freezing when he felt a hand on his back and breath on his ear. “Don’t go too far.”, his cellmate whispered or rather purred, making Crowley want to puke right there and then. On the other probably. Oh, that’d be fun. He chuckled to himself as Alistair had left the cell, door wide open. Ah, probably food? He was starving by now. Crowley made his way through the other convicts, just sitting and standing everywhere, talking until he found the cafeteria, or whatever it was called in a prison.

Toast and eggs. That wasn’t so bad. He’d eaten worse in a diner. Crowley looked around, trying to find an empty seat, table, corner, something. Nothing. Just as he’d spotted Gabriel and his grumpy cellmate, Crowley found himself pulled towards another table and he knew that voice, that loud and nasal breathing. Alistair. Oh, perfect. He rolled his eyes at the endearment the other practically threw at him in every sentence and stopped in front of the table he was supposed to sit down at. His mates didn’t look too inviting to be honest.

“Let me introduce. Guys, Crowley. Crowley, Zach, Uriel, Vigil, Raphael and Brady. Cell mates and friends.”, that voice snarled again.

“Look, I-“

“No, no, no, sit.”, Alistair smirked and pushed him down onto a chair, hands lingering on his shoulder for longer than necessary.

One last glance over to where Gabriel sat, looking almost happy, hoping he'd notice him and help him escape their sticky and creepy fingers, but nothing. That guy was busy talking to his cellmate, the grumpy one and two others. One looked a little lost, bright blue eyes, a mop of black hair and light stubble and the other looked as old as Mr. Grumpy, dark skin, black-grey beard, short black hair. Crowley sighed and sat down, smiling at the others politely as he did so, quietly starting to eat his food. Of course, he wouldn't be able to just eat quietly. "So, Crowley isn't it?", Zach spoke up, grinning menacingly. "Rumour says you killed your wife. True?", he chuckled and the others laughed, talking about bets and how you could not trust anybody. 

Crowley frowned and shook his head.. "Nah, wish I had, though.", he shrugged, shuffling a pile of egg into his mouth, chewing slowly. "Ran with another, took my son." 

"Why didn't you off that bitch?", another one -was it Virgil?- asked him, frowning up from his plate, string of bacon dangling from his mouth as he spoke. 

"Huh? Well, I didn't know I'd end up in prison back then. If I'd known, I probably would've.", he chuckled a little to himself at the thought. He knew he wouldn't have. He wasn't a murderer, well, technically he was, but he just lost control. He didn't walk through life, thinking of all the people he could kill. No, thank you.  

"So, how come you're in prison on American ground and not over the sea?", Alistair smirked. "Love the accent, just so you know. We don't get many exotics here.", he sighed a little, eyes still on Crowley.  

"Haven't been home in years.", he told him while eating. "Work kept me pretty busy, I guess.  And I noticed.", he nodded. From what he'd heard around him so far, he was the only non-American inmate. So, he was special after all. Or not. He chuckled a little to himself, laying the plastic fork back on the plastic plate that was empty by now. "So, why are you guys in?", he looked up  expectantly. 

"Shot the CEO of the company I worked for.", he started, smirking. "And his secretary after a few security guards and a cop.", he shrugged. 

"Treason and murder." Uriel huffed, "Tried to get someone out, was caught, stayed." 

"Lots of reasons.", Raphael spoke up. "Murder, being a group leader tat ordered others to kill in my name, kidnapping, you know, stuff like that." 

"I worked for him.", Virgil sighed.  

"I sold wrong pharmaceuticals, making people sick. Might have caused an epidemic.", Brady smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Oh, great, Crowley made it to the group of the worst inmates in only a day. He was brilliant... 

"You'll get to know soon enough, why I'm in.", Alistair almost giggled, though it wasn't a giggle Crowley had wanted to hear, ever.  Crowley had never been so sure in his life as he was now. He did not want to find out why his cellmate had been sent to prison.  

Hazel eyes roamed through the room as he stood, hastily. "I- uh, I should go. See you guys later.", he forced a smile on his face befofe he fled towards the library. Books. Books were good. Harmless, totally not creepy. He just hoped it was open already and he was allowed to stay there for a while, hopefully the whole day. He stopped in front of the door, reading a sign that said the library was open until _lights out_. Perfect. A least, he wouldn't have to deal with Alistair ad his friends throughout the day. He strolled inside, reading through the book titles as he walked, yelping as he ran into someone. "Oh, fuck. 'Scuse me.", he grumbled, massaging his forehead before looking up. Oh, Gabriel's cellmate.  

" 'S good.", he grunted with a light shrug. "Just look where ya walk." 

"Yes, sorry, I was distracted reading and trying to find a book that doesn't sound as if a three-year-old wrote it.", he sighed, frowning at the shelf.  

"You're new, ain’t you? Alistair's cellmate. Heard about you. My cellmate talks a lot.", the other told him, laughing a little. " 'm Bobby. Nice to meet ya.", he held out his hand and Crowley shook it, smiling. 

"Crowley." 

"Well Crowley, yer in the wrong section of the library.", the older chuckled. "They keep the good books in the back, so the other convicts don't get scared when they accidentally enter the library.”, he chuckled, a low rumble deep in his throat. He nodded for Crowley to follow, which he did.

“Wow, that’s very far in the back.”, he frowned a little, but lit up as he books that actually have been written by human beings with an IQ above 50. “I bet there’s not even pictures in those books.”, he chuckled quietly.

“I seen a diagram in some of those.”, Bobby pointed out, raising a brow.

“Dang, I’m not sure I can handle that.”, Crowley chuckled, already three books draped under his arm.

“Just take deep breaths. Should work.”

“I’ll remember that.”, Crowley chuckled and nodded, looking around them warily. “You been here for a while?”

“Huh? Jail? Yeah, few years.”, he nodded, frowning.

“Alistair. All bark no bite or should I be seriously worried?”

Bobby raised his brows and nodded. “Ah. You’re on his radar. Could’ve figured. You’re…exotic.”, he sighed.

“Exotic? Just because of my damn accent?”, he groaned.

The other nodded. “Ain’t like there’s a lot of change otherwise.”, he shrugged. “Just stay away and be careful.”

“I’m in his bloody cell and he keeps turning up wherever I go.”, he frowned, massaging his temple.

“Didn’t say it’d be easy.”, he grunted, shrugging again.

“Yeah, thanks.”, Crowley grumbled, putting one of the books away again.

“Good decision.”, Bobby commented, pointing towards the book.

Crowley smirked and strolled towards one of the tables, putting his books down into a neat pile before sitting down next to them. As much as he knew he had a few more hours before he’d have to be back in the cell and he intended to use that time. He looked up when he heard footsteps to see Bobby sit down a little further away, hardly looking at him. The brunette kept his eyes on the other for a little longer before shaking his head and focusing back on his book.

 

A few hours later, they were ordered to go back to their cells, so Crowley made his way back. The cells looked all the same, so it took him a little longer to find his own. He stepped inside, already awaiting the time those doors would open again and sat down on his bed, careful to not hit his head on the upper bed.

“Where were you after breakfast?”, came that snarly voice around the corner and into the cell, shortly before the doors closed with a loud and annoying buzzing noise.

“Uh, checking out my new home.”, he shrugged. No need to tell him where Crowley would now always be at. “When will the doors open again?”, he asked, smiling lightly.

“5pm.”, Alistair shrugged and leaned his back against the wall, creepy half-lidded eyes on Crowley. “That’s 6 hours from now. Better get comfy.”, he smirked.

“Great, I’m tired anyway.”, he shrugged, hoping it’d be safe to sleep at day. He didn’t trust his _friendly_ cellmate. The shorter man laid down on his mattress and rolled on his side, back facing his inmate who grunted through his nose and hopped up on his bed, making Crowley wonder once again how the hell he got up there in just one leap.

He fell asleep soon, above the covers, snoring lightly and woke to that annoying buzzing noise as the barred door opened again.

“There we go again.”, Alistair hummed, hopping down from the bed. “Coming? Dinner time.”, he announced, holding out his hand.

Crowley frowned and nodded. “Yeah, uh, go ahead, I’ll come after you. Need a sec to wake properly.”, he grunted, rubbing his eyes.

“Ah, no, I can wait. No problem.”, he smirked back at Crowley who sighed and sat up, blinking, eyes not completely used to the light just yet.

He yawned and stretched. “Alright, alright.”, he sighed, stood and walked ahead towards the cafeteria, hoping to see that familiar face in the crowd, which he didn’t.

“Look who’s there.”, Brady cheered, nudging Uriel in the side. “Told you, he’d bring him.” Uriel just glared at Crowley and threw something at the other. Something Crowley couldn’t identify. Yet.

He sat down and ate quietly, not really in the mood to talk to any of them. He just wanted to live his life in peace, maybe work his way up to be someone in there, maybe find a way out. Who knew? But he was completely sure he did not want to be around those… people. They were the cavemen of that place. Brutal, blunt and bold. No finesse, which he rather enjoyed, even in a place like that. If Alistair kept clinging to Crowley, he’d just have to tell him to stay the hell away. What was he gonna do? Hit him? Not that Crowley wouldn’t be hit either way. That’s what he did. He provoked people, always had, always loved it. Loved to see others punching each other in the face, because Crowley had pointed out certain facts. More often than not did it rain back at him in the end, but the satisfaction had him numb.

He quickly dug in his food, barely listening to anybody around him until he was nudged in the side. “Huh?”, he frowned, looking up.

“You never told us why you’re in.”, Zach chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Crowley made a face, trying to ignore all the expecting faces staring at him. “You’ll find that out soon enough.”, he smirked, using the same line Alistair had used on him a few hours ago. He bet nobody of Alistair’s little group had ever heard why their _leader_ was in. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling he was right with that assumption. Completely right and he was completely sure of that when he saw their faces. Surprise, respect and shock in some other eyes. He guessed nobody talked back to scary Alistair. Hah. He had tried it the quiet and motioning way, tried to show him he didn’t want to have anything to do with him and his _gang_ , but he wouldn’t listen, or rather look.

“I’ll be off then.”, he announced as he stood, about to turn and leave when he felt a hand grip his arm. “Yes?”, he asked, raising a brow.

“Be careful.”, the other just snarled and let go.

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry.”, he huffed and left, getting rid of his tray before he was headed for the library again. He saw the other, Bobby, again and grabbed two of the books he’d chosen before to sit down next to him. “Miss me?”, he purred quietly.

Bobby looked up, rolling his eyes. “As much as I missed the fly in my soup.”, he grunted, lips drawn up into a light smirk. “All good?”

“Of course. I might just have angered someone.”, he nearly giggled.

“What, why?”

“He wouldn’t leave me alone.”, he sighed. “I really tried. I did.”

“Great.”, the other grumbled. “You hang around me an’I get drawn into this, I’ll punch ya.”, he rumbled, shaking his head in annoyance.

“I’d love that.”, he hummed, skimming through the book he’d started earlier. He’d forgotten to mark the page he’d been on.

“I bet ya do.”, he growled and turned away a little, back to reading.

Crowley just chuckled and was about to get back to reading when he remembered. “Hey, uh, mind telling me how things work around here? The times and events and stuff?”

“Didn’t your best friend tell ya yet?”, the other grunted, amused.

“He tried to, but I wouldn’t let him take off my pants.”, he chuckled.

“Dang, who says I don’t want anything in return either?”

“You know a newbie doesn’t have anything yet. I’ll owe you, eh?”

“Fine.”, he sighed and closed his book. “We should go somewhere else. The guards don’t react too well to people talking in here.”, he grabbed their books and stored them in the shelf they came from. “Come now.”, he nodded and left the room, leading Crowley to a rather secluded _Dayroom F_.

“How come nobody’s here?”, he asked up, a little confused.

“Most people spend the two hours in the cafeteria, eating, plotting, talking. These things.”, he shrugged. “Ya can do the same ya do here, there, so what’s the point?”

“It’s quiet.”, Crowley announced, frowning.

“Exactly. Ya ain’t wanna be alone in the quiet. Trust me. Rule 1.”

“Uhuh, now you’re gonna tell me there won’t be guards patrolling the dayrooms.”, he chuckled.

“Exactly. Ya know, your friend, Alistair is a very big influence in here. Had been a rich guys son for all I know. Sick and twisted mind, ya wouldn’t believe.”, the other frowned a little. “He’s got most of the guards wrapped around his fingers. He’s been here for 6 years, so he’s had more than enough time.”, Bobby shrugged. “He’s on first name terms with most of them.”

“Splendid.”, Crowley groaned. “Do I want to know what happened to his former cellmate?”

“No. I don’t even know all the details, but no.”

“My, my, looks like I’m being lucky right from the start.”, he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, back to the daily routine. 9am is the time ya’ll be woken for breakfast. Then, ya’ve got a little more than two hours to eat and do whatever it is ya need to do before 6 hours in the cell. Every second day, it’s only gonna be 5 hours since it’s time to shower before dinner. Yes, group shower. No private, nothin’. No guards watch, not anymore. They wait behind the door. Thank your best friend for that. Though, mostly it’s only people trying to get cocky in there, punching you in front of their little groups of friends. It’s all about being tough in here. So, ya fight back, hit ‘em hard and they’ll never try again.”, he shrugged.

“You’re not even kidding, are you?”, he sighed, slightly amused though. “Sure, they’re not filming you guys?”, he chuckled.

Bobby just shook his head. “Newbies.”

“Hey, you do realize it sounds all so very cliché.”, the brunette raised a brow.

“Yup, still. It’s nothin’ to be taken lightly.”

“Alright, alright.”, he nodded.

“Good, then dinner 2 hours, one hour to do whatever ya want. Yard, library, work, dayrooms, whatever and then it’s back to the cells. Saturdays are different. It’s visitor time, but you’ll notice that soon enough.”, Bobby huffed.

“I doubt that, but fine.”

“No wife out there, crying yer in here?”, he grinned.

“Ha, no. I’m free. Lucky me.”, Crowley chuckled, leaning back against the cold, concrete wall behind him. “Don’t even ask, no family, no.”

“Ooh, touchy.”, Bobby chuckled.

“What about you?”

“Huh? No, no wife.”, he shrugged. “But I’ve got my foster sons coming to see me now an then.”, he smiled and Crowley could immediately feel that usual sting when he saw someone that actually showed how proud he was of his children, even if they weren’t. Crowley had always tried to live up to his father’s expectations and even surpassed them, but never got any praise, nothing. No wonder he ended up beheading him. Funny world.

“Tell me why you’re in then?”, he smiled a little.

“No, I’m not one of those that likes to brag.”, he frowned and looked away.

Crowley sighed and shrugged.

 

They talked for the rest of the time they were allowed to be outside, before Crowley made his way back to his cell, feeling slightly uneasy now that Bobby kept telling him how _scary_ his cellmate was supposed to be. He knew he was creepy, sure, but he couldn’t quite believe all the other things. He’d probably be taught otherwise, but Crowley always had to learn the hard way.

 

“Look who’s back home.”, Alistair cheered as Crowley stepped inside.

“I would’ve expected a more cheerful welcome, like ‘Welcome back, honey’ or something.”, Crowley smirked as he washed his hands and sat down on his bed, ignoring the other standing next to him completely.

“You’re feisty. I like that.”, he snarled. “I’ll break you sooner or later, so you can just stop trying.”

“Cling to that confidence.”, Crowley nodded. “Cause you’ll lose it soon.”, he smirked and rolled onto his side. He wouldn’t sleep. Again. He’d have to get a book and torch as soon as possible so he’d minimize the risk to fall asleep at night. He had the feeling the other just waited for that and he wouldn’t be the one to give it to him, not like that, not at all. He’d kick and bite however long he could.

Soon, he could hear snoring from above him, but still wouldn’t know if the other faked it or when he’d be awake again, so he kept pinching himself to stay awake and think of the face his father had made when he grabbed the axe and walked towards him, door locked and windows too high to jump out from. He chuckled quietly, wondering if he’d be transferred or anything at some point. Maybe he’d be sent to a different facility or something, which meant he wouldn’t be able to talk to grumpy Bobby anymore, which saddened him a little, but he knew he’d be bored to death after a few years, without any changes.

 

The next day wasn’t all too different from the first day. Crowley got pulled to Alistair’s table, replied in his most sarcastic way to whatever one of the brains of those cavemen came up with and made sure to face Alistair whenever he did so, smirking. He excused himself and went to read in the library, running into Bobby, again. They talked a little, but stayed quiet for the most of the time. After the 5 hours in the cell in which Crowley slept, not too peaceful, it was shower time. They were divided into blocks, which meant Bobby was in a different room than Crowley. Damn. They were 6 or 7 people in the shower and Crowley could see Zach, Uriel and Alistair, plus three strangers. He was waiting for a punch or anything to fly, but nothing. He could shower without any disturbance, which made him suspicious and more cautious, looking around now and then to notice anything. When he was sitting with the group again to eat dinner, it was just like before. No comments, nothing. And Alistair was fairly quiet, but Crowley didn’t mind. Of course, when Alistair was back to touching him deliberately long, running his hands down his back or arms, Crowley made sure to push him off and turn away when he heard that snarky voice close to his ears.

 

It worked like that for a little over a week.


	2. The way of the pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's being stubborn and doesn't give in t Alastair's wishes, so the gang and he have a little fun.  
> Part One of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long. *hides*  
> But Christmas, New Year's and family trouble took all the time I had to write. It's a rather long chapter though, so maybe that makes up for it. :D  
> Next one will be faster, promise. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and coming back to read in case you see this message here. :P  
> I'm grateful!  
> It's the first fanfic I ever made public, so it's a big deal for me.

Crowley had been careful, right from the start. Well, except for pissing off his cellmate. He had been careful, pissing him off slowly and steadily, not throwing the bomb immediately. That was something, wasn’t it?

Well, no.

The first sign that something wasn’t as peachy as he’d thought was the fact, Alastair hadn’t bothered to drag him to their table at breakfast, which was…well, weird. He’d done exactly that for 10 days and on day 11, he decided to stop?  The next thing Crowley noticed was the fact, suddenly the whole group around Alastair was in the same shower with him, while the other times it had only been a few of them.

And last but not least, the punch that came directly to his face, hitting his nose and splitting his lip should’ve been an indication for a coming downfall.

“What the-? Fuck.”, he groaned, holding his nose as if it was to fall off from the impact. Uriel stood in front of him, grinning, wiggling his fingers, knuckles cracking as a few droplets of blood trickled down onto the wet floor, slowly streaming towards him. He stood closer to the drain, a small pool of blood forming around him. Only then did he notice he was bleeding and not too little.

“I’ve been patient, Crowley. Very patient, but my patience has come to an end. You don’t wanna give me what I want, I’ll take it. Either way, you’ll lose.”, he smirked, nodding towards Zach and Virgil who quickly rushed behind him. Crowley noticed them, eyes frantically looking for a way out, shifting from wall to wall to closed door. Damn bribable guards. In a matter of seconds, they had his arms, pulling them behind his back and Virgil kicked him in the back of his knees, making him yelp and sink down onto his knees, grunting at the impact as he hit the tiles.

“You’re lucky we only got a few minutes now, but don’t worry, I’ll use them wisely and after that, we’ll have some more time in the cell. More than just a few hours if I remember correctly.”, he snarled, grinning menacingly, stepping closer and closer until he stopped right in front of Crowley, who kept yanking on his arms, trying to get a hand free so he at least could defend himself, punching the other or something. Uriel stood next to Alastair, as did Raphael. “Hold him.”, Alastair ordered before his fist crashed into the brunet’s jaw, a low growl emanating from his throat, trying to accomplish something, anything. Alastair hit him a few more times and the others laughed loudly, sure the guard wouldn’t _notice_. Crowley spit out a mouthful of blood, but nowhere else than his attackers face –or rather check since he was a bad shot, panting and smirking. Alastair growled and walked a few steps away, nodding towards Raphael and Uriel who were flexing their fingers already. Crowley swallowed, bracing himself, making sure he wouldn’t give in. They couldn’t take him that.

Uriel kicked him in the ribs and Crowley heard a sickening crunch, but didn’t really have the time to feel the jolt of pain spread through his body as it rained a few more punches and kicks. His ribs, again, face, stomach and the last kick to his crotch, making him yelp loudly, biting his lip, biting back everything else he wanted to shout and that needed to get out. “Remember, you’re nobody. You _need_ me.”, his cellmate laughed. “Let’s go. I think that wasn’t too bad for now.”, he shrugged, making his way to the door, Uriel and Raphael close to him, Virgil and Zach following after them.

As soon as they let go of his arms, he sunk to the ground, falling on the side and curling up into a ball. “Fuck.”, he growled, voice strained. He didn’t lie there for too long, but fought himself back onto his knees, then feet, legs shaking, everything hurting. He had blood in his eyes. Okay, he had blood everywhere, but also his eyes and not even rubbing them made any change, which was a given since the blood ran down his forehead and without holding something against the wound, the blood would just be replaced by a new load of blood. But the brunet being busy with hurting all over and not to sink to the floor again, didn’t notice and kept rubbing his eyes, cursing under his breath as his vision remained blurry. He waited for a little longer, trying to get distance between him and the others before he staggered past the guard, sending him a glare as he left a bloody trail, not really in the mood to care. He took the prison towels to dry himself off and clean himself off the blood, pressing it against the wounds that were still bleeding, grunting quietly. The brunet got dressed, clutching his hand in front of his chest, protecting it and walked –especially slow to not look like he was running or anything- and sneaked into the library, collapsing onto one of the chairs in the back with a soft whimper, hands trembling and legs shaking from strain and pain.

“What the hell, Crowley?”, Bobby frowned as he saw the other sank down on himself in the chair. The older man rushed over to him, eyes widened in worry. Crowley knew they had somehow become friends in the last week. He’d spent every free minute with him, talking, bantering, having fun or just being quiet and read.

“I knew there was something wrong.”, he grumbled, trying to sit straight. “But I was too late to notice.”

“I told ya to be careful and not make him angry.”, Bobby sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t move. I’ll be back.”, he ordered gruffly before he stomped off.

Crowley wasn’t too sure how long Bobby had been gone. He just knew he was back when he saw the other, carrying band aids and painkillers. Oh yes, painkillers. Crowley had tried to get painkillers before, but he didn’t have the contacts yet, so he’d have had to pay a horrendous amount of money to which he’d told the other to put them where the sun didn’t shine. “Shirt off.”, he ordered again.

“Ooh, Robert. That tone makes me all gooey.”, Crowley purred weakly, but still smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. You could never be in too much pain to not tease when you had a chance like that.

“Oh, shut up and get that damn thing off.”, Bobby huffed, rolling his eyes, frowning when he saw the shape the brunet was in. “I won’t be able ta help too much with the ribs.”, he told him, brushing his fingertips over the bruises that had already formed along his chest and stomach. “Stomach, too?”

Crowley nodded. “And crotch.”

“Very funny. No, I won’t check or try to revive your naughty bits or something.”, Bobby rolled his eyes again.

“Seriously.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”, Crowley nodded.

“That’s just nasty.”, he grumbled, sighing. “Hitting the head’s gonna be a fun ride for next week.”, Bobby told him.

“Thank you for beating around the bush.”, Crowley grumbled, looking down on himself, his eyes easily distracted by Bobby’s hands that keep roaming over his chest.

“Sorry for hurting your feelings, princess.”, he shrugged. “Ya can put that back on. And take these.”, he held out a bottle of water and a few painkillers. “I’ll give you the whole tray later.”, the older man announced. “But let me look at yoa head first.”

“Yes, you are allowed to kiss me, darling.”, Crowley purred, grinning, ignoring the pain it caused. He just had to.

“Seriously, I’ll stop patching you up.”, Bobby blushed a little and cupped the brunet’s face, brushing a thumb over his lip. “Band aid will do.”, he said, putting it on with one hand, eyes already up to the wound on his head. “Fist?”

Crowley nodded again, shrugging. “At least I tried putting up a fight. Not too easy when held down, but hey, I’m learning.”, the shorter man chuckled, hissing slightly as Bobby pressed down on the wound, applying another band aid.

“This’ll do, karate kid.”, he huffed out a laugh, brushing a hand through Crowley’s hair, jumping a little when he seemed to have caught himself. Crowley didn’t comment on it, hiding the fact he didn’t really mind since he liked it. He liked the other touching him and liked it even more to touch him. But he knew the other only pitied him and Crowley wasn’t _that_ desperate. Not yet anyway.

“Thank you.”, he sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Is there another way to change the shower room you’re assigned to? I mean, except for bribing a guard.”, he asked, curious.

“I don’t think so.”, Bobby shook his head. “But I ain’t no expert. Never cared which one I was assigned to.”

“Shame.”, Crowley sighed, fixing his shirt absentmindedly. “Would you do me the honour and stay close? I’m about to fall asleep now that the painkillers kick in.”, he muttered sleepily. “Damnit, what was in those meds?”, he groaned, eyes falling shut.

“Oops, musta mixed them with some sleeping pills.”, the taller man shrugged, smirking as he sat down and opened his book, reading quietly as he stayed close to the sleeping man, determined to not move until he woke again.

Crowley woke, feeling better somehow –more rested- but also worse. He hurt all over. Again. Still, still yet again? What? “Uh.”, he grunted, pushing himself up in his chair, stretching his neck.

“Rise’n shine.” Bobby grinned, barely looking up from his book. “30 more minutes until it’s back to the cells.”, he announced quietly. “At least ya won’t fall asleep in there.”

“I’m still beat.”, he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he let out a small yawn. “God, who invented two-men cells?”, he growled, stretching and groaning. “I should start moving then. Given my pace, I should be there right on time.”, he joked, though it wasn’t even completely untrue. He pushed himself up, hands gripping the back of the chair and table to support him, carrying his weight.

“I can help you.”, Bobby offered, looking up at him.

“No, they don’t have to know about you.”, Crowley shook his head, determined. Bobby and the library were his safe haven. He wouldn’t let them take that from him.

No way.

“Thanks for the painkillers, by the way.”, Crowley huffed, slipping the small bottle into the pocket of his bright orange trousers. He staggered back to his cell, earning a few confused looks, but ignored them, just focusing on making his way back. He stopped a few feet away from his cell and regulated his breathing. Taking a deep breath, he straightened up and walked into his cell proudly, not showing he was hurt. The shorter man ignored the other’s mischievous grin as he sat down on his bed, biting his lip to stifle a groan. Fuck, the painkillers probably were wearing off.

“How are you?”, Alastair snarled, arms crossed in front of his chest as he was stood against the wall across the room, as he always did.

“Perfect.”, Crowley growled, lying down and turning his back to the other. He hadn’t had time to go look in the mirror yet and he definitely wouldn’t when Alastair was present, not even thinking about giving him the gratification. Pah. The way the others and Bobby had looked at him, he assumes he looked horrible. Well, he was in prison, he was allowed to look like that.

“We can have some more fun then, later.”, he purred, now definitely closer and Crowley fought the urge to turn and punch him in the face. Maybe he should’ve. Maybe that would’ve changed something, anything. Whatever.

“Touch me and I won’ hold back, bastard.”, he growled defensively. “When you’re on your own, you don’t stand a chance.”, he lied, but put everything he had into it, hoping it’d hold the other away from him.

It didn’t.

A few hours after the cell doors had closed, Crowley was pulled out of the bed roughly. He had just come to think nothing would happen, since it’s been only Alastair and him for hours now and he hadn’t tried anything. But he was wrong. He hit the ground with a grunt but pulled up his hands to protect himself immediately, glaring at the other before he slid back to lean against the wall, facing his attacker.

“What?”, he huffed, swallowing the pain that emanated from his ribcage.

“I told you we’d have some more fun.”, he grinned, eyes following Crowley’s every movement as he pushed himself up, propped up against the wall.

“Well, have all the fun you want. Without me.”, he glared.

“Where would be the fun in that, huh?”, he shrugged, taking a step closer. Another step.

Without any further warning, Crowley took a deep breath and lunged at the other, punching him in the face, twice and trying to kick him in the nuts, which didn’t work out, but at least he got him a bleeding nose.

“Well, you were right. That _is_ fun.”, Crowley chuckled, wiping his hand on his shirt, leaving a bloody stain. He watched the other carefully, hoping to at least dodge a few of his attacks and managed to do that. For fewer attacks than he’d hoped, but he stood his ground, leaving Alastair with a bleeding nose and split lip and a bump on the head while Crowley was thrown to the ground and immediately curled up into a ball, protecting his chest and head. Though he wasn’t too sure his torso needed protecting the way it was already bashed up.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was still on the floor, but the cell was open and he was alone. Had he been unconscious? Obviously. He put his hands on the cold concrete floor and pushed himself up on his knees, groaning all the way through until he practically fell back on his arse. “Bloody-“

“Oh, so I did find the right cell. And there I was, afraid I might not find ya.”, came a familiar voice from the other side of the bars.

Crowley looked up, eyes a little widened. “What the hell? I told you not to.”, he grumbled, standing faster than Bobby could blink. He didn’t want to look like a total weakling in his eyes, even if the puddle of blood on the floor he’d slept in pretty much screamed of it. He sighed, looking up at the other.

“I can’t let y’alone for an evening and ya get in trouble.”, the other chuckled as he stepped inside. “I saw Alastair.”, he grinned. “Looks like you fought back properly. I’m proud o’ya.”, he nodded, hand brushing over Crowley’s cheek as a slight frown creased the other’s forehead.

“You bet I did.”, he grumbled, eyes on Bobby’s face, shifting to his hand. Um.

Bobby chuckled, pulling away. “So, want me to patch ya up again? I’m good at that.”, he offered, smiling a little. Crowley frowned and nodded.

“Yes, please.”

“Sit.”, he ordered, pushing Crowley down to sit on the mattress. “Don’t hit your head, though.” He knelt down in front of the brunet, a soft expression on his face. “Sorry, you ran into Alastair of all people.”, he sighed. “Most of the inmates here aren’t that bad.”, he hummed while putting a few band aids on the newer bruises. “My cell mate, Gabriel is a little annoying, but nice.”, he told him. “He told me you guys met?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”, he nodded. “We just talked when I bumped into him, but nothing else.”

“Well, apart from him, there’s a few others. My friend Rufus and his cell mate Castiel ain’t too bad either.”, he told him. “You simply had bad luck.”, he sighed.

“Yeah, of course.”, Crowley nodded, a crude smile on his face. He was bad luck. Not that he minded, usually.

“All done. At least the visible bruises.”, the older man grinned, stuffing the rest of the band aids into his pocket.

“Maybe you should leave those with me.”, Crowley suggested, shrugging.

“Nah, I doubt ya can patch ya face up as I can.”, he smirked and stood, stretching with a little groan.

“Getting old?”, Crowley chuckled.

“Yeah, maybe. Or it’s the fact you’re so short and I always gotta bend down ta talk to ya.”, he retorted.

“Maybe you should try talk to my face not my crotch.”, Crowley hummed, wiggling his eyebrows. “No need to bend down then.”

Bobby shook his head and rolled his eyes, though Crowley saw a small grin playing around his lips. He yanked his eyes off _those_ lips, shaking his head. Bobby wasn’t like that. He’d had a wife and probably had some jail-letter-affair-friendship-marriage going on.

“Thank you.”, Crowley suddenly felt like he needed to say it. He wasn’t sure he’d thanked the other before.

“Nah, don’t mention it.”, Bobby shrugged.

“Don’t mention _what_ exactly?”, came another voice from the other side of the bars.

“None o’yer business.”, Bobby growled, pulling Crowley up by grabbing his hand and tugging him with him, past Alastair.

“Not so fast, hick. Where do you think you’re going, huh?”, Alastair snarled, catching Crowley’s sweater.

Bobby didn’t say anything else. He just glared, spun Crowley around so he stood behind him and buried his fist in the other’s face, multiple times before he let off with a grunt and turned, a satisfied grin on his face as his eyes shifted to Crowley. “Come now.”

“Wha-?”, Crowley yanked his eyes off the body on the floor as he was pulled behind the taller man. “Wow, you got a punch there, old man.”, Crowley mused, grinning. “Where’re we going?”

“Library.”, he shrugged. “Or if ya wanna talk or somethin’, dayroom?”

“Hmm. Dayroom sounds good.”, he smirked, pulling him towards the dayroom they’d been sat for a few times in the last week. Crowley sat down carefully, grunting quietly and wishing to go back and kick Alastair in the stomach for a few times, just to feel better.

“Gotta say, seeing that made me feel all tingly inside.”, Crowley grinned, winking at Bobby who just rolled his eyes.

“He deserved it.”

“Oh yes, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful. You wouldn’t believe. Still, seeing you all angry and punchy. Hrrrr.”, he purred cat-like, still grinning widely.

“Oh shut up, will ya.”

“Make. Me.”, the brunet winked.

“Ya wish.”, Bobby shook his head and leaned back against the cold and white concrete wall, eyes shifting to the ceiling.

“In how much trouble are you now?”, Crowley spoke up after a moment of silence.

“A lot.”, the taller man shrugged nonchalantly. “Not the first time.”

“Perfect. You’re a rowdy and I’m friends with you.”, Crowley joked.

“Yeah, I’m evil. Ya better stay away or I’ll eat’cha.”

“I knew it.”

“Uhuh.”, Bobby nodded, closing his eyes.

Crowley chuckled and copied the other man’s stance, leaning back against the wall, just resting. He felt like he had been run over by a truck. Again. Damn all those trucks.

 

Crowley didn’t feel too excited to go back to his cell but when the warning signal blared, he sighed and pushed himself up, winking goodbye to Bobby as he was headed for his cell. Bobby’s cell was in the opposite direction, so they always parted ways early. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t even been to Bobby’s cell yet. Okay, today had been the first time the other had been to Crowley’s cell, but..

“Whatever.”, he grumbled, shaking his head as he peeked through the bars of the cell he inhabited. Alastair was laid on his bed, not moving to greet him as he stepped inside and laid down.

He jumped slightly as the door was closed, but not as much as he had the first few days. The brunet figured he’d be used to it completely, soon. Rolling onto his side, he propped his torso up on his pillow so it didn’t feel too uncomfortable lying on his side and sighed.

 

* * *

 

The next thing Crowley remembered was waking up. Shit, he’d fallen asleep. Well, it had been pretty likely since he hadn’t slept the night before and had been beat up, twice, only napping for an hour in-between. “Shit.”, he hissed as he couldn’t rub his eyes. “What the-?”, he blinked his eyes open and the first thing he saw was that he didn’t see anything. It was dark, no light at all. He yanked on whatever held his hands back, looking up to where he felt them.

Was he tied up? Tied to the bunk bed? He could hear the creaking when he tugged on the restraints. “Let me go, bloody bastard.”, he growled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now it's gonna get dark, like, really dark. Oopsie. Sorry, not sorry. XD 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Leave a comment and tell me what you liked or didn't like, I love both kinds of comments, so comment away. I'll also squee if it's only a "<3" or if it's a kudo. :D Thank you.


	3. Lesson No.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley literally gets a taste of what Alastair is capable of....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!  
> NON-CON for this chapter. Not yet all the way, but well....just don't read when not okay with that.  
> Trigger warning. 
> 
> Sorry for the delay btw. *sighs* Had to cut it in half and change some major stuff. 
> 
> I don't have a beta reader so it's probably full of mistakes, as always, I AM SORRY.

Crowley knew he had been pretty lucky until now, given the fact he’d been messing with _the big guy_ of the prison for over a week now and had come out of it pretty much unharmed. Okay, until the day before yesterday.

The brunet had never been too lucky in his life, but as it seemed jail had a new low ready for him, just waiting to take its turn on him.

 

He was currently tied to the bunk bed he and his lovely cell mate slept in, His hands were tied together above his head and chained to the cold metal bars of the bed. How the hell did Alastair get his hands on a bloody chain? Wasn’t this prison, where hey were supposed to eat with a plastic spork? And the probably most brutal inmate got his hands on a chain. Someone explain the usage of prison to him again please?

The one who had tied him up to said bunk bed with said chain and rope was leaning against the wall opposite of the bed, staring down at Crowley. His eyes were dark and he almost looked scary, only that Crowley wasn’t afraid. He didn’t like being tied to that bed, neither would he like what was about to follow, though still, he didn’t fear it. Nah. He’d been through enough in his wonderfully awful life and there was hardly a thing that could scare him anymore.  Instead, he just found himself angry. As usual. Angry at the guards that could be bribed so easily, angry at the system of having two convicts share a cell, angry at the other for staring at him and being so bloody drawn to him and last but not least, angry at himself for falling asleep.

“I really tried, you know.”, Alastair spoke up as he crouched down in front of Crowley, leaning in closer as he spoke. “I gave you more chances than I give ordinary people, but you keep getting more outrageous. I’ve had enough.”, the other snarled, usual grin eminent on his face, lips stretched slightly as he ran his hand down Crowley’s chest, fisting the hem of the shirt. “Your life could be so easy. I protect my things.”, he told him.

Crowley scoffed and spit the other in the face, growling and glaring, his foot kicking Alastair against the knee, making him stumble back. Crowley couldn’t help the grin that crept up his face, playing smugly around his lips. “ _Stay away_. I’m fine on my own.”

“ _On your own_ as in with that Singer guy?”, he wiped his face and stood straight, huffing out a laugh. “Tha’guy’s always been a nuisance. Damn annoying. Maybe I should go talk to him.”, Alastair grinned, licking his lips.

“Listen, you sick fuck. This is between you and me.”, Crowley growled, yanking on the restraints again, more furiously this time. “So get it over wi-“, he gasped when the other crouched down again and pulled him closer, kissing him roughly. The brunet bit his lip, drawing blood, grinning when Alastair pulled away with a hiss, glaring at him.

“Oops, should’ve mentioned I liked biting.”, Crowley purred. A split-second later, Crowley felt the other’s slender, bony fingers wrap sling around his throat, wiping his mouth with the other.

“Bite me once more and neither you nor your little boyfriend will be able to secretly meet in the library again.”, Alastair warned, voice deep and threatening as the other’s fingers gripped his throat a little tighter.

The brunet huffed, muscles of his throat trying to fight the sudden pressure as the other tightened his grip further, slowly choking Crowley. “Nod if you understood.”, he growled. Crowley knew he only had two possibilities. Nod and take whatever the other had in store or get choked and have the guards cover up his death. He’d die in prison anyway, but a slight glimmer of hope –or rather a quiet, nagging voice was telling him he shouldn’t give up yet. There was always hope, so he nodded, eyes pouring all the disgust he felt at that moment into one long and growly glare.

“Good boy.”, the other snickered, letting go of Crowley’s throat to unbutton his trousers, pulling them down with one hand while the other grabbed a hold of Crowley’s hair, pulling his head up. “Open up, lover boy.”, he chuckled, setting one foot against Crowley’s crotch threateningly. “Don’t even think about it.”

The brunet yanked on the ropes and chain once more, before obeying and opening his mouth. He should’ve known the fight Crowley put up would only make him more excited and angry. _Bloody fool you’ve been,_ he thought to himself as he felt the other’s cock breach his lips and prod the back of his throat, making him gag in response. The grunts and quiet moans the other let out while thrusting in and pulling out, again and again made Crowley sick and he was thinking about just biting down as hard as he could, no matter the consequences, but just as he was about to debate whether it’d be a good idea or not, Alastair’s foot pressed down on his crotch, making him gasp and squirm, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. “Don’t you dare. I see what’s going on in your little head. Don’t.”, he warned, hand in Crowley’s hair tightening and holding him in place while he thrust up inside of him, as deep as he physically could, pulling out with a groan. “Should’ve done that ages ago.”, he moaned, fucking the shorter man’s mouth with vigour while moving his head however he wanted it to be. Crowley just hoped he’d finish off soon or else he probably was going to suffocate either way since the other hardly gave him time to breathe, just fucked him mercilessly.

The closer the other was to come, the faster and more ruthless did he push inside, tugging Crowley’s hair painfully hard, “Don’t dare spit it out.”, he warned, foot applying more pressure on his crotch again –just slightly though, a warning. When the other came inside his mouth –or rather throat, Crowley flinched, trying to pull away –reflexes kicking in, but he was held in place for a few torturously long seconds –which felt like eternity to him. He did as he was told, swallowed as best as he could while the other pulled out and pulled his pants back up, a sinister grin shining down on Crowley, who was panting and sighing in relief, trying his best to not throw up.

The brunet couldn’t describe in words how glad and relieved he was to see the other hop up onto his own mattress to sleep, leaving Crowley tied up, but he couldn’t care less at that exact moment. He craved a toothbrush all through the night and didn’t dare protest as Alastair left the room for breakfast, keeping him tied up.

He knew Bobby was going to find him sooner or later… and he did. Exactly three hours and 33 minutes later. Crowley had counted. A small smile crept up his face as he saw the familiar face peeking inside the cell through the bars. “Help?”, he spoke up, coughing at how raspy he sounded.

“Shit, what happened.”, Bobby growled, rushing inside to undo the ropes. Crowley didn’t answer, just hurried to stand, supporting himself on Bobby as his sleepy legs made him stagger over to the bad excuse for a toilet and he sunk to his knees, throwing up everything the other had left inside of him that didn’t belong. And more.

“What the- oh no, don’t tell me..”, the other froze as it dawned on him.

“Shut up.”, Crowley groaned, pushing himself up and crawling over to the small sink, grabbing his toothbrush. He used more than enough toothpaste and cleansed his mouth, hoping to erase every trace of the other, even the memory.

The brunet let out a sigh. “Much better.”, he hummed. “Sorry, you had to help me, again.”, he grumbled, looking up as he was pulled after Bobby who’d grasped his hand tight and pulled him towards the dayroom they’d spent a few breakfast breaks in.

“I’m gonna kill him.”, he growled. “He’s gone too far. Hitting and punching is quite normal, but that-“, he looked at Crowley –or rather glared. “We can’t let him do as he pleases. That’s what made him become so influential in here in the first place.”, Bobby sighed, sitting down at their usual spot and pulling Crowley down next to him.

“Don’t.”, the brunet spoke up. “It’s my fight. Not yours. Don’t get involved.”, he sighed, not daring to meet the other’s eyes.

“Are you kiddin’ me? I made it my fight when I hit’em.”, he grunted. “And tha’guys’s been on my bad side for years.”, Bobby shrugged.

“You’re on your own and he’s got his gang of lapdogs.”

“Aww, you worried about me?”, the other smirked.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Mhmm, you love it.”

“You’re an arse.”

“Learned from the best.”

“Why do I put up with you anyway?”, Crowley sighed. “I don’t want you to die and you mock me. Ungrateful brat.”

“ _Brat?_ ”, Bobby scoffed. “I’m what, 5 years older, 6?”

“Doesn’t change your intellectual age.”, Crowley shrugged.

“Yeah, cause you’re so wise.”

“I am. I know when to fight and when to survive.”

“Sometimes ya gotta fight to survive.”, the taller man chuckled.

“Most of the time you don’t.”

“Most of the time it’s just an excuse to not have to admit you’re scared shitless.”

“Am not.”, Crowley protested.

“I can see that.”, Bobby nodded, grabbing the shorter man’s hand. “And you’re trembling out of anticipation?”

“Anger.”

“Oh, will you stop that? I’m a friend, remember?”, he frowned, patting the other’s head, ruffling his hair with a grin.

Crowley flattened his hair with his free hand, not pulling the other away, growling. “Don’t do that. I’m not a dog.”

“Never said ya were. It’s fun, though.”

“Are there ways to change cells?”, Crowley asked, all of a sudden, looking up at the other.

“Uh.”

“Are there or aren’t there?”, he urged.

“Yeah, um, I mean, you either got a brilliant lawyer-“

“Don’t, what else?”

“Death of your cell mate without you involved, um, an urgent matter, like he beat you half-dead or something so ya end up in hospital, but he ain’t gonna do that.  He knows you’ll be out of reach then.”

“He’s got the guards on his side anyway.”, Crowley added. “So, basically I’m stuck there?”

Bobby frowned and nodded.

“Perfect.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault, dumbass. I just-“, Crowley growled, squeezing the other’s hand. “I just want to rip his heart out and I honestly never felt that way towards any living creature before. Even the reason I’m in here was less … urgent.” Crowley might have hacked his father and uncle in pieces, but he’d killed them before. He wanted Alastair to suffer. More than humanly possible.

“That’s … well, not insane at all, but I get it.”, the older chuckled, shaking his head a little. “Someone will stand up to him at some point, you’ll see. And I won’t stand down.”

“I knew you wouldn’t. Stubborn, old .. idiot.”

Bobby laughed and nudged the other in the side, “Then stop arguing. You’re annoying.”

Crowley sighed and shook his head, massaging his temple. “Fine.”

“So, tell me why you’re in here, will ya?”, the taller man smirked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and pulling his legs a little closer to his body as he leaned back against the wall.

“I told you, you don’t need to know. It’s private. And nothing to brag about.”, Crowley huffed.

“I didn’t ask you to brag. I just wanna know.”, the older frowned and sighed. Why would he want the other to brag about killing someone or whatever else he did. “I thought ya trust me?”, he huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“You don’t wanna know. You’d probably shove me off and tell me to stay in the psychiatric ward.”, Crowley smirked.

“Oh, I bet it ain’t half as bad.”, Bobby chuckled, nudging the other in the side with an amused grin.

“No, it’s worse.”, he sighed, waving his hands in the air. “Fine, fine. I slaughtered my abusive arse of a father and my uncle. Before you think I’m nuts, I had a valid reason. Okay, maybe not to use and axe to uh, well, separate certain body parts from their origin, but hey, I was angry. They were about to steal my company, bought 51% of the shares, practically stripping me off my life and I just wouldn’t have that.”, he huffed, glaring at the wall across from them.

“Hm.”

“Hm?”, Crowley repeated, turning to look at the other.

“Well, it’s definitely .. more insane than I thought it’d be. Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“What? I’m not some weakling or something.”, Crowley growled.

“Well, until now, ya did seem like ya were in here for..whatever, taxes or something like that.”, Bobby chuckled, patting the younger’s shoulder. “I’m impressed though. Maybe ya should spread that story. Would definitely help keep idiots away.”

“Means I’ll finally be rid of you?”, Crowley grinned, chuckling quietly.

Bobby just grunted and frowned. “I can go if ya want me to.”, he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh, don’t pretend you could live without me.”, Crowley purred, lips pulled up in a smirk.

The older just shrugged and stood, stretching. “We gotta be back in the cells in 20. You might wanna get some food before?”, he hummed, strolling towards the cafeteria. Crowley stopped outside, frowning as he saw Alastair and the others on the inside. “Stop, wait.”, he grabbed the other and pulled him back. “Stay here.”, he ordered and walked inside. Alone. He didn’t want them to see the other. He had nothing to do with their little fight. Or not so little. Crowley got a sandwich and strolled back out, ignoring the sinister smiles the others sent him, letting out the breath he held when he set his foot on the other side of the doorframe. “Wanna stroll back to my cell?”, he smiled, taking a bite.

Bobby nodded and started walking, hands in his pockets. “What was that?”, he raised a brow.

“Huh? Oh, just don’t wanted you to have to get food for me. I’m not a child.”, Crowley shrugged, taking another bite. He quickly ate the sandwich so he was finished before they reached his cell. “See you tomorrow?”, he smiled, a genuine smile –which was rare, since Crowley didn’t really have too many reasons to smile nowadays.

“M’yeah, library I guess. Try to not get into trouble.”, he joked.

“Yeah, shut up and go.”, Crowley kicked him playfully.

Bobby laughed and waved as he left, hurrying back to his own cell, Crowley assumed as he sat down on his bed, hiding his hands, since he was in fact, slightly nervous. Not afraid, Crowley wasn’t afraid.. He just loathed the other and knew he probably wasn’t strong enough to fight him off. Fuck, why the hell hadn’t he had karate training or something when he was a child? Or later? He’d wipe the floor with Alastair’s face.

“Mhm, looks who’s back. Hey there, lover.”, the snarl purred and Crowley couldn’t help but dry-heave at the sight, growling at the other.

But instead of attacking him or anything, he just hopped up into his bed and was quiet. Crowley sat on his own mattress, frowning and thinking. Uh, okay? Was he delirious? Maybe he noticed the brunet wasn’t too special? Probably. Phew.

The shorter man smiled a little and rolled up on his mattress, back to the wall, just to be sure and even fell asleep before the doors were closed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, lovelies! <3  
> I really appreciate it that you're still here. 
> 
> Leave me criticism? Pwease? Or praise. I'd kill for praise, really. :P  
> Next chapter will be there soon. Already started.


	4. Lesson no. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley learns to fight and Alastair has a very creative phase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am SO sorry for the wait and broken promises. I just couldn't get to it and at some point I kinda lost it, so it took me some time to find my way back in, but I've got the next three chapters plotted and I will continue to write tomorrow. So, there won't be paused for longer than a week, two tops since uni starts again next week. (WHY IS ONE WEEK VACATION SO SHORT?) Plus, this chapter took me longer since well.....read and you'll get it. 
> 
> Okay, then.   
> WARNING. TRIGGER WARNING. RAPE. I mean, REALLY. DO NOT READ IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT. 
> 
> This chapter is the one in which IT is going down, so be prepared for pain and blood and hardly any Crobby. Dang.   
> That'll change though, since starting with the next chapter, Crobby will happen, even if not kiss, smutty or whatever yet. But there will be a very caring Bobby. :P 
> 
> If there are mistakes, tell meh! Thanks.

When Crowley woke early next morning, he’d made a decision. He’d ask Bobby to teach him how to fight. The brunet had been thinking about asking him since he’d seen him punch Alastair. Damn, how the other sunk down on his knees… The best thing he’d seen since he had been thrown into prison. Definitely.

 

He rolled out of bed the moment the doors opened and slipped outside, ignoring Alastair calling out for him as he made his way to the library, only stopping in the cafeteria to get a sandwich on his way, evading everybody else. He wasn’t really in the mood to look at either one of their mischievous faces this morning. Oh, he was convinced Alastair had told them, he probably made a video somehow and showed it to them, but Crowley didn’t really care. There were worse things and fortunately he’d always been good in suppressing things he didn’t like to remember.

“Morning love, missed me?”, he purred, walking up behind the older man, smirking even before the other could see him.

“Yeah, ‘course, _babe_.”, the other huffed out a laugh, setting aside the book he had just picked up a few minutes ago. “No breakfast? Yer early.”, he raised a brow.

“Mhm, now you’re just flirting.”, he chuckled and nodded, expression serious as he spoke up again, “Teach me how to fight? Or rather, punch my cellmate?”, he smiled, almost sheepishly.

“ And why would I do that?”, Bobby turned around, facing Crowley, brows knitted in confusion. “Did som’thing happen?”, he huffed, fists clenching.

“Not yet, but he was extraordinarily calm yesterday and I’m quite sure the bomb will be dropped at some point.”, Crowley sighed, shuffling with his feet. “ _Please?”_

“Did I just hear tha’ right?”, Bobby chuckled, “Did ya just say _that_ word?”, the older grinned, shoulders moving as he tried to bite back a laugh. “Aw, you’re adorable like tha’.”

“Shut it.”, he grumbled. “I mean it. Will you do it or shall I just practice by hitting the wall and break my hand?”, Crowley huffed.

“Alright, alright.”, Bobby sighed, shaking his head before rubbing his forehead. “Ya sure about that? ’m gonna kick yer royal ass in the process.”, the older chuckled, cracking his knuckles as he tried to prove his point.

“I’m very well aware you will, which is why I asked _you_ and not some other hick wandering around here.”, Crowley rolled his eyes and gave a sigh before turning around and walking to the dayroom they spent most of their days in when they weren’t in the library. Since it didn’t have any interior, people hardly ever bothered to spend their day in there, but Bobby and Crowley sat on the floor anyway and just talked, or today, fought, so the room was perfect.

Crowley knew he probably should’ve learned how to throw a punch before, but he had never bee the kind of person to just punch someone in the face. Why would he when he could win most arguments with talking? Exactly. Crowley and his silver tongue usually made it through fights unharmed, given the fact he always knew a way out. The brunet liked to plan ahead, only in prison, he’d lost that advantage. He was the new one, the one who had no clue, the one who would be beaten up if he wasn’t careful and learned how to defend himself. Quickly. “So, how do we start?”, he spoke up after staring at the other for a little while.

“First of all, standing like that ain’t gonna help ya beat anybody.”, Bobby scoffed, shaking his head, walking up to Crowley and shove his feet away from another with his own, nodding when he stood more steadily. “Much better.”, Bobby nodded. “Now pull up yer arms, hold ‘em in front of yer chest.”, he huffed, nodding when Crowley did as he was told and a little later, Crowley even had managed to punch him once. Not that Bobby couldn’t have blocked it, but he wanted to help the other find the bravery to go up against Alastair and his _friends_. “Alright, now yer gonna be able ta hit’em when they’re close enough. We’re gonna try and teach ya how ta defend yourself, passively.”, he told him. “Watch me.”, he ordered, holding up his hands in front of his body, “Now try and hit me.”, he challenged.

When Bobby pulled his hand back to collect strength to hit the other, he saw something in the way he held up his hands change and before he could stop himself he’d thrown his punch at the other, only to have him dodge it and send Crowley stumbling against the closest wall. “Bollocks.”, he hissed. “Teach me that and I’ll kiss you.”

“It ain’t that easy.”, Bobby chuckled.

“The kissing or dodging?”

“Idjit.”, he rolled his eyes. “You gotta be concentrated. Bein’ afraid or worried ain’t gonna help, so you’ll have to stay calm.”, he told him. “Pull up your arms again.”, he looked at the other, “Higher.”, he walked over to him and pushed his arms up so his hands were in front of his face. “Good. That stance is important.”, he told him. “Don’t clench your hands into fists. “Let ‘em relaxed, but be ready to tense ‘em up so you ain’t gonna hurt yerself.”, he smirked. “We’ll go slow, alright?”, he chuckled, making himself ready to hit the other and show him how to react. Crowley was relatively short, so he’s have to keep his hands higher than a taller person would. Poor guy.

A few hours later, Crowley was back in his cell. He had a split lip –there was no way he had been able to see that punch coming- and felt exhausted, but also stronger, sure he’d at least go down putting up a fight. Alastair was already inside, frowning when he saw his lip and jumped down from his mattress, reaching out to touch Crowley who just slapped his hand away, growling, “Don’t you fucking touch me.”, he hissed, crawling into his bed, curling into the covers. He didn’t care he’d just given the other another reason to beat him up, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

Exhausted as Crowley was, he even fell asleep, sleeping contently until the blaring alarm went off, telling them they were supposed to go and get their showers. Crowley groaned and sighed, pushing himself up. “Great..”, he grumbled, though surprised he didn’t end up tied to the bed again. _Progress_. Pushing himself up to his feet, he stretched shortly, slowly making his way out of the cell, not even glancing back at the other –which had been a mistake, since otherwise he would’ve realized something was up. He was about to turn right into the corridor that was supposed to bring him to the public showers when he felt a hand tug him back and lay itself up on his mouth, muffling his yells and grunts as he was dragged back to the main cell block, only to be dragged to the corridor on which the day rooms were. Crowley fought though, he fought with all he had, throwing punches around him, jut sitting down on the floor, but whatever he did they kept dragging him forwards and into the last dayroom, _Bobby’s and his dayroom,_ so they wouldn’t be disturbed.  “Seriously, stop fighting.”, Zach hissed, slapping Crowley shortly. “Brady, get the door? Just in case he gets loose.”, he grinned, the other nodded and walked over to the door, pressing his back against it as he leant on it.

“Let me go, bloody wankers.”, Crowley growled, pulling one of his hands free to throw a punch, hitting Virgil in the face, grunting at the pain it caused his own hand when it crushed into the other’s cheekbone and the brunet couldn’t help but grin a little, yelping though when he felt a foot on his back, pushing him down on his hands and knees.

“Hold him?”, Alastair growled, walking to get in place behind the shorter man, kneeling down. “Get two of those pillows?”, he looked at Raphael, nodding. When he got the pillows he wanted, he nodded at Zach to lift his foot and shoved both pillows under Crowley’s hips, “Mhm. Much better.”, he hummed, slapping the brunet’s ass and chuckling when said brunet growled.

“Virgil, you go stand by the door, Brady and Zach you hold down his arms so he stops fighting, Raphael, you get ready, you’ll be on after me.”, he laughed, slapping Crowley’s ass again, another growl rising in the brunet’s throat.

“I’ll kill you, I’ll bloody kill you.”, he hissed, yanking on the hands that held him down, yelling in frustration when he couldn’t get either one of them loose and huffing when he felt Alastair spread his legs. Of course, he clenched them together, as any rational person would do, but when there’s a foot boring into your, you quickly forget about the fact someone else is about to bloody rape you. “Don’t you dare, bloody wanker, I’ll rip your throat out.”, he threatened, hissing loudly, flinching when his trousers were tugged down, followed by his boxers, but only to his knees so his legs were practically tied together. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

His mind was racing, ideas coming and going, his heartbeat ringing in his ears as he tried to think of something to do, some way to get out of this, so he just yelled for help, hoping there was at least _one_ guard working in that bloody prison that wasn’t bribable.

 

Apparently not.

 

Another slap to his arse and Crowley felt the anger slowly subsiding, making place for fear to take over and the brunet couldn’t help but whimper when he felt Alastair’s long and just creepy fingers squeeze his arse, spreading his cheeks. “Fuck you, just fuck you, you sick fuck.”, he growled, tugging on his arms again, sure he’d leave the room with a scratched up face since without his hands his face practically lay on the dirty floor and every movement dragged his skin along the concrete.

“No can do. I’ll fuck _you_ instead.”, he snarled and without any preparation –except for a lousy amount of spit-, physical or mental, he felt as is ripped apart, crying out in pain when Alastair practically _shoved_ his dick up Crowley’s arse, grunting when the brunet managed to push him out as his body tensed up against the pain, only to try again until he’d made it and Crowley had squeezed his eyes shut, panting and trying to breathe the pain away. _Fuck that, how was he supposed to bloody breathe something like that away?_

Crowley didn’t even have time to keep cursing the fact he tried to breathe the pain of being raped that way away as the other pulled out again, followed by a choir of laughter, “Oops, should’ve used more spit I guess.”, the biggest wanker of the whole bunch chuckled, “Glad you’re assisting our cause with your own…lube.”, he grinned, pushing back in, less resistance this time and a low groan falling from his lips. “So tight, fuck, we haven’t had someone like that in a while.”, he smirked, slapping Crowley’s arse again, only drawing a whimper out of him.

He kept yanking on the hands that held his arms, spreading them to his sides. _If he could only get one free.._ But they wouldn’t even move and he could hear mocking chuckles at the fact he still tried, even when Alastair set up the probably most brutal pace he could in that moment, Crowley tugged on his arms, all while crying out, cursing and threatening everybody present in that room and every single one of the approximately 100 guards working at the prison. By the time Alastair was close to being done enjoying himself, Crowley had stopped fighting though, sure it had been longer than half an hour –fuck that wanker’s stamina- and wondering why nobody noticed a whole group of people and a few from another never turned up. Groaning in discomfort when the other came inside of him, giving a pleased groan followed by a chuckle and huff as he pulled outside and tucked himself back into his pants, they exchanged spots and Alastair took over to keep Crowley down, foot on his back. “Let me go!”, he tried again, hissing and growling, glaring at nobody in particular and still everybody present.

“Will you make him shut up? How am I supposed to keep it up like that?”, Raphael growled, pulling down his own pants and wrapping his spit-covered hand around his own cock, stroking himself a few times before leaning forwards, hands on Crowley’s hips as he thrust inside, hissing and groaning as he buried himself inside the shorter man who just whined and growled at the same time, panting and trying to think of anything at all, which was even less effective now that he was sore and forced to take another dick up his bloody –literally- arse. Maybe Bobby would come and find him soon? He should be worried, shouldn’t he?

 

Bobby was worried indeed. How could a rational person not be worried when a whole group of Satanists, sadists and sickos was missing? Exactly. On top of that, Crowley didn’t come to see him, so of course, he was suspicious and kept his eyes open, though he couldn’t find any of them. He sighed, frowning as he walked up to Gabriel, “Gabe, ya seen the new guy?”, he rumbled.

“New guy, as in?”

“Short, stocky, accent…”

“Oh, not for some time.”, he shrugged, sipping his tomato juice.

“Balls.”, he growled, making his way to the warden closest to them before rumbling an excuse for talking to him.

 

Crowley knew he’d have to shower for a whole century to get the smell and sweat of the other men off, if he got it off ever again. Probably not. After Alastair and Raphael, Zach and Uriel –who was late to the _party_ had taken their turn, too and Virgil –since Crowley had to be punished for hitting him, probably got the first and best blow job of his life.

The brunet held down and raped now found himself with his hands behind his back, his upper torso resting on Virgil’s legs and crotch pressed into his face, Crowley practically chocking on his dick since he wasn’t really able to move without anything to push himself up on, forced to rely on the men holding him down to not let him suffocate just yet, while Brady took his turn, complaining about how loose Crowley was by now and how he wanted to be in line earlier next time, “Sick fuck.”, Crowley hissed when he was _allowed_ to come up for air.

 

“How can ya not care where 7 prisoners are?”, Bobby frowned, voice raised in anger. What kind of a prison was that? Weren’t they supposed to be guarded 24/7? Lousy job done so far. Justas he was about to go find another guard, he saw Bartholomew stroll towards the dayrooms, looking hurried and Bobby didn’t take longer than a second to react and catch up to him. “Not so fast.”, he growled.

 

“Damn, we should get feisty ones more often.”, Alastair snarled and chuckled, “Didn’t have that much in months.”, he laughed, patting Crowley on the back. “Well done, beautiful. Just one last thing.”, he hummed, leaning down to kneel next to Crowley who still lay on his stomach, bleeding and torn apart. He rolled him on his back, ripping his shirt open as he pulled something from his pocket, flipping it open to show a pair of razors hidden in a tissue. “Hold him down, cover his mouth.”, he ordered, ignoring the way the others looked at him. He had to soothe his cravings now and then and Crowley was perfect, his body unblemished, no scars, yet.

Crowley tried to fight, exhausted and broken, but not yet done, though again, how was one person supposed to fight 6 others? He screamed against the hand that covered his mouth –make that two hands- when he felt the sharp sting of the razor blade across his skin, the only thing he could focus on to try and ignore the pain was Alastair’s hum, almost content, as he cut Crowley’s skin, not minding the blood that trickled down his chest in the slightest.

 

Bobby had cornered Bartholomew and after a good beating, he spit –literally- out they’d planed to take Crowley to one of the dayrooms, but he’d had to distract one of the guards and ended up being forced to listen for about two hours. Bobby was more than worried when he found out Crowley had been with those sickos for almost two hours and he practically stormed towards the dayrooms, instinctively barging into the one Crowley and he frequented, gasping when he indeed did find Crowley. “Balls.”, he grunted, kneeling down to the other.

 

Crowley didn’t really mind lying in his own blood. It was his after all. What he did mind though was lying the left-over cum, cum that dripped down his thighs, a feeling that made him want to throw up. He had been rolled back on his stomach, discarded, when Alastair was done and hadn’t moved. He hadn’t moved at all, only his hands had flopped forward as he was moved. He let out a mix of a whimper and growl when he was picked up again, expecting to see Alastair’s face again, but instead he looked up at Bobby, shooting him a light smile. “I hit Virgil. Crushed his bloody cheekbone… and my hand.”, he whispered proudly.

“Knew ya could do it.”, Bobby nodded, “We’ll look at yer hand later.”, he hummed, carefully rolling the other on his back and out of the puddle of whatever he lay in. “They’ll get into isolation for that.”, he hissed, brushing a hand through Crowley’s hair. He didn’t miss the huge ‘A’ carved into Crowley’s chest or the other cuts he had all over his body which meant Alastair had a blade of some kind in his possession and if he hurried, they’d find him red-handed –literally-. He carefully tugged Crowley’s pants back up and lifted him up, carrying him back to his cell, ignoring the looks everybody gave him, even the guards and set him down on his bed, patching up the wounds he could tend to, covering the ‘A’ in gauze and fighting the urge to change it into a ‘B’. Not that he wanted to own the other or anything, oh no, he just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing that ‘A’ there, where it definitely didn’t belong.

“Gabe, think ya can make sure he ain’t gonna do nothing stupid? Got some business to attend to.”, he growled, running his hand through the shorter man’s hair again before he pushed himself up and left his own cell, checking out Crowley’s first to find it empty. After a few more minutes, he found the group of bastards sitting in the cafeteria, gloating and laughing, so he stomped over to them, grabbed Alastair by the shirt, his hands still bloody from picking up the little pieces they’d left behind and buried his fist in the other’s face. Once, twice, five times, only then did he let go of his throat and tossed him down on the floor, kicking him in the ribs and he turned just in time to dodge the other guys’ attacks, throw a few back at them, sending them crushing down to the floor, growling and kicking Alastair again, just because he could. He’d seen the bruises on Crowley’s chest and sides through his ripped shirts, which meant after everything they’d done, they had the nerve to kick him, lying on the floor, bleeding and almost incoherent.

“Don’t ya dare touch him ever ‘gain.”, he growled, pressing his foot down on Alastair’s chest, applying a little more pressure than needed, just to prove his point.

“I see ya close ta him ‘gain, y’all gonna pay.”, he huffed and turned, getting the guard that was supposed to watch the cell area to follow him to his cell, showed him the extent of Crowley’s injuries –with only little protest from the Scotsman- and told them who it was and what he’d do if they let something like that slip again. The only person the guards feared was the warden and Bobby had enough evidence to make the warden check on them and he knew they wouldn’t risk it. He told him where he’d find the culprits, especially Mr A and within 10 minutes he was back in his cell, sitting down next to Crowley who’d fallen asleep shortly after Bobby’d left. “’m gonna bring him ta the infirmary before lockdown.”, he sighed, moving the other so his head rested in his lap and he could lean against the wall while stroking his hair, ignoring his chapped knuckles for now.

“Did you….?”, Gabriel looked down from his cot.

“Nah, they’re not worth it, even fi they deserve it. They ain’t gonna bother him anymore, I’m gonna make sure ta keep ma eyes on him, too.”, he smiled a little, shrugging. He liked the sassy Scotsman, there was no point denying it. He hadn’t had that much fun in years, even if there were also not so funny days, like today.

“Mhm-“, Crowley blinked his eyes open, flinching when he realized he’d fallen asleep while Alastair was in the same cell.

“Shh, calm down, not gonna hurt ya.”, Bobby chuckled, “Don’t move your hand, ain’t gonna be pleasant. Just had gauze, so you’re gonna have to get it taped in the infirmary.”, Bobby smiled a little. “Ya got one more hour before lockdown, use it and sleep.”, he raised a brow. He didn’t have to tell Crowley about the fact Alastair won’t be spending time in their cell for the next few weeks –at least-. He’d find that out soon enough.

“’kay.”, Crowley nodded, eyelids already falling closed again.

Bobby lifted Crowley up, exactly 40 minutes later and carried him to the infirmary, shrugging the gasps the nurses gave him off and left again, for once sure nothing was going to happen to the other –for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I will have my beta look over it as soon as she's got time. But to not let you wait for longer, I checked it for major mistakes and in case I said wardens somewhere instead of guards, I am sorry my brain did not function. It is 5:30 am and I have been writing for HOURS. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading, even for reading that note. :)   
> Next chapter will be a liiiittle fluffy and here much faster. 
> 
> Please leave a kudo or comment, I will love you forever.


	5. New rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is recovering and Bobby tries to help as best as he can. Let the Crobby begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Again. *sighs*   
> Until now I've only been able to write at home, on my comp, since I didn't have a laptop anymore, but now, I've got one -ma baby- and therefore I'll get to write practically every day. Uni started, too, so I'll even get to write in uni, no clingy and too curious parents on my arse, keeping me from writing.   
> Already working on the next chapter and two more are now plotted out. 
> 
> Enjoy the Crobby-ish that now finally, slowly builds. :)  
> For the first time, NO WARNINGS. XD Yay.

Crowley didn’t remember how he ended up in the infirmary. The last thing he did remember was Bobby telling him to sleep. As he often did. He’d started making Crowley sleep right when he’d noticed the brunet didn’t sleep too much in his cell, afraid of his friendly cellmate to attack him. Again. So, Bobby had made sure Crowley got a few hours sleep at least when they were together and he could watch out for him.   
He didn’t really mind it, really, he just didn’t like wasting the little time he had with the other with sleeping, just because his cellmate was a psychopath. But well, Bobby could be very convincing if he wanted to and Crowley didn’t want to seem ungrateful and he was really tired most of the time, so he’d sleep after a little banter with the grumpy American.  
“How did I…?”, he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as the bright light of the infirmary stung in his eyes and hissing when he tried to sit, but tugged on something on his chest. “Bollocks.” What the hell? He looked down on himself, frowning when he saw he wasn’t in his cell, but in fact in the infirmary. So his nose was right. He knew the smell of hospitals or rooms that were just like hospital rooms. One of his arms was cuffed to the bed he laid in, the other… a cast? Perfect. He also noticed a rather big compress on his chest and as he’d peeled it off, curious as to why he’d have a big compress right in the centre of his chest and when he saw the irritated skin and the outer lines of a rather big and mighty ‘A’, he barely made it to lean over the edge of the bed, throwing up everything he’d taken in in the last two days –for sure.   
One of the nurses came rushing over to him, calling another to clean up the mess while she’d make sure Crowley was alright. “How’re You feeling?”, she smiled a little, resting the back of her hand against his forehead.   
“Fabulous.”, Crowley rolled his eyes, flopping back down on the bed. “Exhausted and … dizzy.”, he added.  
“It’s the morphine. I’ll tone it down. It’ll be better soon. But the pain might get worse again, we’ll see.”, she hummed, almost happily. “You’ll be alright.”  
“Morphine?”, he mumbled, frowning up at the woman. “Oh, right.”, he nodded. Of course. Alastair and his goons had… yeah, he remembered. No wonder he couldn’t feel anywhere close to his hips. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “When can I go back to..my cell?”, he asked quietly, feeling himself growing more tired again.   
“A few days? We’ll have to see about the light infection on your chest. The..uh, knife left residues in the wound. It wasn’t clean. We don’t know what it was, but it left bacteria behind and irritated the skin. We don’t want it to get worse. “, she sighed. “Same with uh, the lower region.”, she looked at her patient. Injuries like that weren’t rare. She had victims of rapes on her beds regularly, but seldom someone as badly hurt as that guy. She did feel bad for him. “Just rest.”, she smiled softly. “Call me if you need anything. There’s a bottle of water on the nightstand. With a straw so you can drink easily.”, she told him, lifting the bottle for a moment so he could see. “Alright, gimme a holler if anything’s up.”, the nurse hummed before walking away, leaving Crowley on his own until the other nurse came to clean up his mess.  
She groaned as she started to fight the urge to vomit herself and Crowley couldn’t even say he felt bad, because right now… he didn’t. He was too exhausted to, too tired and too angry to feel anything apart from that.   
He’d get back at them. He knew he would. He just didn’t yet know how, but oh, he’d find a way. That much was crystal clear, even if it took years. He had more than enough of those and he figured Alastair and his friends had more than enough either.   
Dozing back off, Crowley didn’t even dream of what had happened just a day –was is a day?- ago. He just slept a dreamless sleep and woke almost rested the next time, groaning as he stretched and tugged on all kinds of wounds again. A yawn hurt his split lip, too and he sighed, grumbling to himself as he reached for the water. The brunet was sure he was dehydrated by now and his chapped lips told him the exact same thing. Right as Crowley slurped some of the water, the nurse from before was back, smiling at him cheerfully. “Good news.”, she smiled, “Your skin seems to calm. It’s only been a few hours, but it’s already showing signs of recovery, so I guess we might be able to let you go tomorrow already.”, nurse Marsters told him.  
“Tomorrow?”, he repeated, his head luckily not pounding as bad as it did before anymore. “Alright.”, he nodded right as his stomach rumbled loudly and Crowley fisted a hand in the sheets.   
The nurse laughed, “Alright, I’m gonna get you something to eat real quick. Don’t run away.”, she winked as she hurried off, returning only about five minutes later with another bottle of water and a plate holding a few sandwiches. Even the smell alone made Crowley’s mouth begin to water, especially after the bad food in the cafeteria.   
“Oh my, those are from Heaven.”, he announced, humming happily as he grabbed one and took a bite. 

Bobby wasn’t allowed to go see the other the next day. He’d tried a few times, even asked nicely once, but they wouldn’t let him in, telling him Crowley had to rest. Well, they were probably right, but he still wanted to keep the brunet company. He didn’t like the fact he was all on his own after what had happened.   
Sighing, he walked towards the library, already missing the other’s constant nagging as he sat down, reading quietly, his legs crossed and brows knitted in worry. He knew Crowley was more than likely very fine in the infirmary. He had good food –Bobby had ended up in the infirmary once or twice, so he knew- and nurses that cared for him. Hell, he probably had it better than Bobby at the moment.   
Alastair and his friends were indeed caught red-handed since Bobby had acted quickly and they’d now rot in solitary for some time. Bobby had only heard rumours, saying Alastair would have the longest stay out of the group because he was found as their leader and still had the knife in his pocket. The slight hint, being the ‘A’ carved into Crowley’s chest might also have been proof for Alastair’s guilt. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to recover, ever again.”, Crowley chuckled, humming happily as he’d finished his sandwiches. Damn, those had been amazing. If he didn’t feel stuffed, he’d probably have asked for more, just to use the fact he could. He set the empty plate on the nightstand and grabbed the glass the nurse had brought while he was eating, sipping the lightly sweet water carefully. Lemon water? Not bad. The coffee in the cafeteria was horrible. He hated it. But ordinary water was boring and had become annoying fairly quick.   
“You should rest. The more you sleep, the faster you’ll heal and be able to get out and we won’t have to keep Singer away.”, the nurse rolled her eyes.   
“Hm? Singer?”, he raised a brow.   
“Oh, Bobby Singer? The guy who brought you in? Carrying you like a prince would.”, she winked, grinning smugly as she walked away. “Rest. I’m sure he’ll wanna see you.”  
“Oh.”, Crowley nodded, a small smile tugging on his lips. Of course Bobby had brought him there. Who else would? If it hadn’t been for Bobby, he’d still lie in their dayroom, bleeding and hurting. He’d have to thank the other as soon as he got out. Crowley slid down slightly, rolling on his side again as it hurt less to sleep that way and nestled into the pillow and sheets, sighing softly before he fell asleep again soon, body still drained and in urgent need for sleep. 

Bobby hated not being able to see or talk to Crowley. He knew he was being lovey-dovey and stupid, but… he cared. Believe it or not, he did. He’d come to like the smug, slightly arrogant shorter guy. He even wanted to hear him complain about everything and the world again. All he got from the nurses was: “He’ll be fine. Just a little longer.” What the hell did that mean? A day? Two? A week? Grunting at the nurse, Bobby made his way back to the library. The dayroom was locked for the moment. He figured it would be for longer, since nobody wanted to take care of the mess.   
The floor had been a puddle of blood and other liquids, remnants of skin and Bobby didn’t really want to know. He’d even found hairs, definitely Crowley’s –idjit probably fought too much and they pulled on it- and he knew, next time Alastair or one of his guys got out, he’d make sure to make them pay. He could live through solitary if he knew he’d made them pay at least some. “Balls.”, he hissed when he’d accidentally ripped one of the pages in one of his favourite books. Concentrate. Don’t drift off. 

For the next three days, Crowley would get amazing food, talk to the nurses for half the day and sleep a little less with every passing night, hoping and asking the nurses to let Bobby in at least once, but they wouldn’t. “We’ve got regulations. I don’t want any of us to get in trouble.”, she sighed, shaking her head. 

On the fifth morning, Crowley was released. Walking still stung, as did his chest, but at least his black eye was starting to fade, his cuts were healing and he could muster up a confident and almost smug smirk as he made his way back to his cell. The nurses had told him Alastair and his goons were still in solitary and would stay for at least a week. The Warden had been angry, very very angry, by the fact the Guards hadn’t noticed –or ignored- the fact Crowley and the other’s had been missing for a little more than two hours, so they’d be held in solitary for an unknown amount of time, to use that as a warning to others.   
He didn’t expect Bobby to block the path to his cell, though. “Robert, love. Let me inside?”, he looked up at the other, smiling slightly. “I’d like to sit.”, he raised a brow.   
“Nah.”, Bobby shook his head, reaching out for Crowley’s hand before tugging him along as he made his way back to his and Gabriel’s cell.   
“What the-? Where-?”, Crowley grunted, trying to keep up with the other. “Bobby, wait, not so fast.”, he hissed, trying to catch his breath when the other finally stopped.   
“Sorry.”, Bobby mumbled, frowning. “Ya ain’t gonna stay in that cell for longer than yer have ta.”, he announced, turning to walk again, but slower this time. When they’d reached his cell, he smiled faintly at Gabriel who was just about to leave and patted him on the shoulder.   
“Thanks.”, Crowley mumbled, looking down on his feet. God, he hated situations like that. He didn’t do ‘Thank you’s’ and apologies. He loved to evade them, but this time he couldn’t. “I mean it. Thank you.”, he smiled a little, wrapping his arms around the other. “You didn’t tell anybody, did you?”, he frowned as he pulled away.  
“Yer welcome.”, Bobby grumbled, shooting the other a small smile. “Sorry I been late.”, he sighed, growling at the thought of Alastair’s hands all over the shorter man’s body. Hands clenched into fists, he took a step away when Crowley let go of him. “Hell no. I didn’t tell nobody.”, he shook his head. “Gabe only saw the … carving on yer chest, nothing else, so no worries.”  
“Good. Good. Don’t you dare apologize.”, Crowley frowned. “I would’ve lied there for days if you hadn’t found me.”, he nudged the other in the side. “Can we sit now? Standing hurts.”, he grumbled, scratching the back of his head.   
“Yeah, o’course.”, Bobby nodded, stepping inside to sit on the lower of the two bunk beds. “So, how did you like the last few days?”, Bobby chuckled, patting Crowley’s shoulder.   
“Will you stab me in exchange for a kiss? I wanna be back in there.”, Crowley grinned, winking at the other.   
Bobby rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Ya just gotta ask if ya wanna be kissed.”, he chuckled.   
“Where would be the fun in that, eh?”, Crowley smirked. “Looks like I’ll have to get used to being around you again.”, he sighed dramatically, though it quickly turned into a laugh. “Missed your scolding nature.”, he hummed, looking up at the other before resting his head against his shoulder. “I’m still sore, so don’t you even think of flirting with me.”, he hissed after a short pause.   
Bobby choked on his own, very sassy reply he’d been working on for the last 10 seconds, his brain frantically scanning through everything he could say and right when he’d found it, Crowley had spoken up again and he felt his cheeks turn bright pink even at the thought. Oh Bobby didn’t blush easily, hardly ever did since he liked to evade situations that, “I…”, he frowned, shaking his head. “I- I ain’t…”, he sighed.   
The shorter man glanced up at the only slightly –in Crowley’s eyes- taller man, trying to keep his serious expression before bursting out in laughter. “Seriously, you’re too bloody tense, Robert. I’m alright. Don’t think those hicks got me down.”, he scoffed, shaking his head. “I plan to get my revenge.”, he hummed. “With your help.”, Crowley smirked, winking. “As soon as I can walk properly, I’m gonna ask you to train me again.”, he smiled a little, though he meant it. He wouldn’t end up like that again, ever. He had enough of talk and negotiating. He wouldn’t just hope next time Bobby would be there to help him again. Hell no. He could be on his own and punch their teeth in. Never again would he be humiliated like that again. Not if he could do anything about it.   
Bobby sighed, giving a slight nod, “I figured ya ain’t gonna give up that easily. Guess I ain’t got ‘nother choice.”, he chuckled, shrugging lightly. “But first, yer gonna heal up or I’ll tie a to my bed.”, he huffed, eyeing the shorter man suspiciously. “I mean it.”  
“Yeah, yeah, mum.”, Crowley rolled his eyes, scooting back to lean against the wall. “Your bed is even less comfortable than mine.”, he grumbled, frowning.   
“We can back to yer cell if ya wanna?”, Bobby offered, shrugging.  
“No.”, Crowley shook his head. “You mind getting me food though? I’m not too keen walking around too much.”, he mumbled quietly, eyes not meeting Bobby’s.   
“Yeah, alright.”, Bobby chuckled. “Been about ta ask. Anything special ya wanna have?”, Bobby grinned, getting up to his feet and stretching.   
“Nah, just.. something not that bad.”, he sighed. “I want to go back…”  
Bobby huffed out a laugh as he left the cell, “We’ve all been there.”, he chuckled. “Stay in here.”, he ordered as he left to get the other and himself food. It was still early, but already late enough to just sneak in and back out.  
Crowley shifted slightly so he lay on his side, using the fact Bobby would be gone for some time to relax. Sitting upright, being tense as he was, was harder than he’d thought it’d be. Maybe he should just tell Bobby he hurt. “Nah.”, he shook his head to himself, sighing as his body started to relax a little.   
Bobby hummed to himself as he made his way back to his cell, smiling a little when he found the brunet fast asleep on his bed. He set the food down on the small drawer next to the bunk bed and sunk down against the wall, keeping his eyes on him as he slept. Bobby liked watching Crowley sleep. He looked peaceful and… calm. 

The next few days were almost the same. Crowley loved the fact he was alone in his cell now and he could sleep at night without having to keep up his guard. The cell was locked and nobody else was inside. Damn, life was good.   
At day, he met Bobby in his cell and they’d talk and banter, getting to know more of the other and Crowley’s hand only healed slowly, so Bobby could convince him to wait a little longer with their training. What he didn’t expect though, was to hear that everybody except for Alastair had been released from solitary only 8 days after the… incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Leave a comment if there's anything you'd like to tell me or maybe something I could do better? Or leave a kudo. :D I'd be grateful Every comment/kudo makes my day. <3
> 
> I'm working on other fanfics, too since my head is overflowing with ideas, so stay tuned for other thingies. xD 
> 
> Thank you. Again. <3   
> *leaves cookies*


	6. Hard times and sweet interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley deals with everything that had happened and coping isn't as easy as he thought and hoped it'd be. Bobby knows how to bribe Crowley into standing up to his fears. And something else happens.  
> As always TRIGGERS wherever you look, so be careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM ETERNALLY SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. I really, really, really, really am.  
> Life just has been horror. I was in hospital last week, too and just got out and yeah. I'm sorry, I really totally am.  
> I'll be better. I promise.  
> I hope the .... sweetness of this chapter will make up for it. I mean angst and stuff, but sweet. :P
> 
> Crowley had a mind of his own, so I had to cut the chapter because otherwise it'd have taken another week xD

**_"I feel so close to you right now, And there's no stopping us right now~"_**

Crowley didn’t come to Bobby’s cell that morning and the taller man knew he’d heard. He grabbed them two sandwiches and rushed over to the other’s cell, finding him curled up on his bed. “Hey.”, he grumbled.  
“..Hey.”  
“Ya heard….”, Bobby sighed as he stepped inside, sitting down on the other’s mattress and resting his hand on his leg, his feet pressing up against his own leg. The taller man sighed softly, keeping quiet, hoping for Crowley to speak without him having to.. well, make him. He knew he couldn't _make_ Crowley do anything, but he also didn't want to put more pressure on the other. "Don' worry, nobody's gonna hurt ya. I promise that."  
"I know." Crowley mumbled, shuffling a little to burrow further into his pillow. He wasn't _scared_ to get hurt. He wasn't _scared_ at all. "I just... I wanted them to suffer for longer." he shrugged lightly. 8 days in solitary? That was ... Crowley had taken three quarters of that time to even get out of the infirmary and had hoped for a week or two in silence, nobody to look out for, nothing to keep him alert all day. Now though, he was back to having to worry about every single step he took. Even _if_ it was only the others yet, Alastair would be locked away for longer, didn't mean Crowley would be safe.  
They deserved much more than just 8 lousy days, so much more.. and Crowley would find a way to make them pay. He just had to or he knew he'd never feel safe again, never feel like he mattered again, like anything mattered again.  
"I know ya did." Bobby gave a nod, patting the other's leg as he shifted a little to lean back against the wall. "I did, too." he admitted, sighing softly again. He didn't know what to say to make Crowley feel better. "Ya know I ain't gonna let 'em hurt ya, don't ya?"  
"I do."  
"Why the long face, then?" Bobby couldn't help himself. He just couldn't. He didn't like Crowley being like that. The taller man knew he shouldn't do this, knew he shouldn't just _attack_ him like that and let him deal with his pain, but he didn't want to see him that way. Crowley was proud, a tad arrogant and confident, not... quiet and sulking. The Crowley he'd come to know sulked openly, loudly and in the most adorable way possible for a grown man and that's exactly who Bobby wanted to see. Not some scared child hiding in their bed. When Crowley didn't reply, didn't even move to acknowledge he'd even registered his words, Bobby sighed again, shifting to sit facing the other's back and pulled him up, forcing him to face him. "Listen. Yer safe. Told ya I ain't gonna let'em touch any part of yer body 'gain. Ever. An' I mean it." the older man huffed, grumbling a little. Wasn't it pretty obvious Bobby cared about him? Was he really _that_ bad in showing it? He didn't think he had been that oblivious...  
"I know."  
"Fer God's sake, talk, will ya?" Bobby growled, annoying at how quiet the other was. He'd been more quiet ever since the day it happened, but not as quiet as he was now. "None of Alastair's group will touch ya 'gain." he told him, "I made sure they ain't gonna get close to ya. An' Alastair ain't gonna risk touchin' ya." he shrugged, "He can't risk it. He's got 'nough warnings by now. Next incident, 'specially if he ends up hurtin' ya, will end his life here. He'll be transferred ta 'nother prison. Supermax. He ain't gonna risk it. Ya hear me? He ain't." He brushed his hand through the other's hair, smirking gently at the shorter man.  
Crowley growled softly, knowing the other was right, but he just didn't feel like it. He felt like kicking Bobby out of his cell, lock the bloody door and never come out again, completely aware of the fact he was being utterly pathetic. So Alastair _couldn't_ touch him again? Oh hell, if he wanted to, he could crush him once more. That prick knew more people than anybody else in that prison and if he wanted Crowley dead, not even Bobby would stand a chance. Fuck the Warden. That dickhead didn't know what was going on in their own prison anyway. Huffing, Crowley sat up straight. "Fine. But you'll teach me fighting. Just like you promised."  
Bobby sighed, shaking his head, "I thought yer gonna wait a few more days? Until.. ya know, yer healed up."  
Shrugging, Crowley nodded, "Mhm, I said so, but I'm almost back on my feet." he smirked. Total lie, but he couldn't wait any longer. He felt vulnerable every single second of the day, felt like he'd be trapped again at any time, helpless and just so miserable. No way would he let it happen again. He wouldn't let anybody see him like that again, ever.  
"Oh, is tha' so?" Bobby raised a brow, gently running his hand up the other's chest and applying a tad bit more pressure the further he reached.  
Hissing, Crowley batted the other's hand away, a low growl rising in his throat. " _That's_ different." he huffed, glaring at the other man. "That thing won't just _heal_. So, a day or two more won't make a difference." Another hiss.  
Crowley felt his heart beat loudly in his chest at the thought. _He_ 'd be marked until the day he died. _He_ 'd have that prick's carving in his flesh until he decided to either burn the skin or die. There was no way out. He was caught in prison, wretched and hurt and nobody cared, not a single person cared. The fact the people he'd trusted most, the Guards, had just betrayed him like that, just left him and ignored the fact he'd been gone for _hours_. Hours, he would never again be able to forget. While it had been fun and entertainment to anybody else, _he_ was the one to bear the cross. He was the one with the nightmares, the injuries, the pain, the pictures in his head. He couldn't even nap without seeing that face again. Laughing and grinning at him, while he just fought for survival, for pride and for breath. "You don't understand." he spoke quietly, shaking his head. "You don't understand. You can't-- you just don't-- "  
Without another word, Bobby wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him close to his chest, spreading his legs so he could pull him in and kept him close. "'m sorry, ya know?" he whispered, hating the way the other shook in his arms. "Promised ta protect yer sassy ass." he joked weakly, hoping to wake the Crowley he knew, somewhere hidden in the shaking figure in his arms. "Not gonna happen 'gain." Bobby gave the other time, let him deal with whatever demons he had to deal with and just remained quiet for the time being. 

"My arse isn't pleased with your bloody protection. At all. You might wanna change your occupation." he glanced up, a small smirk on his face. Bobby was right. _This_ wasn't him. The way he was behaving wasn't Crowley. It was just a scared nobody, pulling him down. _He_ was pulling himself down, dwelling on the past. Okay well, it hadn't been much longer than a week, but past was past and brooding wouldn't change a thing.  
Bobby chuckled, nodding, "I figured it ain't. I'm gonna make sure it ain't ever got a reason to be unhappy with me 'gain. Promise." he smirked, patting the other on the back.  
"We'll see about that." Crowley grumbled, "Not sure it'll ever be able to forgive a failure like that." he winked, "Without _hard_ work, of course... it might turn out good for you."  
"Yeah, 'm sure o' that." Bobby laughed, slowly slipping out of the other's grasp, holding out his hand. "C'mon."  
"Where to?"  
"Don't babble, get up and c'mon."  
"Bu-"  
"Ah-ah-ah." he shook his head. "Just get yer ass outta bed. Got a surprise fer ya."  
"Fi-"  
"Na-ah-ah. No talkin'."  
"Bu-"  
"Shut it." Bobby huffed, rolling his eyes as he pulled the other up and out of the cell, down the stairs to the bottom of the prison and through the corridor into the library. He didn't stop until he'd pushed Crowley down in one of the soft chairs. There were some that hurt your back by only looking at them and then there were Bobby's favourite chairs, soft and amazing to spend the day in reading. "Stay." he ordered before walking away, trying to find one of his ... _friends_. Bobby had come to jail years ago and he knew his way around and after a few years, fights and victories included, he ended up with contacts. If you had a strong fist, you could get everything but freedom in here.  
Crowley watched the other walk away, fidgeting a little nervously in the chair. Hell that bloody thing was more comfortable than his _bed_ or whatever it was supposed to be. And when he came back, a smile broke out over his face when he saw what the other held in his hands. "Oh Robert, you're making me blush."  
"Good, though I intended ta make ya shut up." he sighed dramatically, flopping down on a chair next to the brunet and handing him the book he'd got for him. "Kept bawlin' 'about no good Lit in the library." he shrugged, "Figured ya might like it." he grinned, patting the shorter man's thigh.  
"Mhh, love it when you actually listen to what I say." he chuckled, inspecting the book. It was a collection of Shakespeare's works. "You know you shouldn't be gifting pornographic material to someone you hardly know, yes?" he raised a brow, grinning.  
"Tryin' ta seduce ya, obviously." he rolled his eyes, huffing out a small laugh.  
"Thanks. Really, I mean it." he smiled at the other, the first real smile in days. What could he say? Shakespeare has always been his weakness. "If I had stood, you'd have had me all weak int he knees." he winked, sighing softly as he leaned back against the chair.  
"Glad yer likin' it." Bobby chortled, watching the other and the way he'd touch the book, partly as if it was something holy to him and he figured, with him being Mr Education and all, that Crowley would like some good literature.  
"I'm lovin' it, _babe_." the brunet smirked in his best American accent. "Looks like I won't have to spend any time with you anymore, now that I got _this_." he held up his present, smiling at the other.  
"Yeah, figured you'd say that. There's conditions, though."  
"There are?"  
"Yeah."  
"You mind sharing with the group?"  
"Think yer ready ta hear'em?"  
"Depends on the amount of body action you've got planned."  
Bobby scoffed. Crowley always succeeded to turn serious conversations into ridiculous talk. "Well then, lemme tell ya. No active body action, at least not between multiple folks. Jus' yer royal ass in the showers later today."  
Crowley froze, gripping the book tightly as he shook his head. He hadn't been int he showers ever since he left the infirmary. He was sure he stank by now, but in the beginning he couldn't go because of the bandages and by now... he'd grown accustomed to the thought of not having to go back there. It was jail, so why couldn't he just stink however well he wanted?  
Bobby sighed. He'd expected a reaction like that, he had, but...part of him had hoped Crowley would just laugh and accept, making a few jokes about naked guys or whatever came up in the other's head. Instead, he saw the way the brunet tensed up, gripping the book almost frantically to his chest, as if it'd protect him from harm. Harm Bobby tried to bring onto him, obviously. "Crowley, stop."  
"Hm?"  
"Stop. Yer not some kind o' crazy guy. Stop the rockin'." he growled, one of his hands gripping the shorter guy's shoulder. "Yer in mine and Rufus' group now. I made sure o' that." he explained. He'd made sure of that as soon as Crowley got out of the infirmary, hoping he'd be able to make him take the first step earlier, but Crowley had been worse than he'd thought, so he'd waited. "I'm gonna walk ya there, we're gonna shower -you might even be able to catch a glimpse of me- and I'll walk ya back. No room fer incidents." he clarified, smiling softly at the other. "C'mon. Trust me on that. You ain't gonna be able to ditch the showers forev'r."  
"I know that." Crowley grumbled weakly.  
"So?"  
"So what?"  
"Condition 1."  
..... "Fine." the brunet whispered.  
"Good. Don't ya dare read through the night now ta 'void me makin' ya do more things." he chuckled, patting Crowley's shoulder. "Now read some. Not gonna leave yer side 'til the cells are closed up again later." he smiled softly, leaning back in his own chair to read the book he'd grabbed for himself. Ah, maybe he should've made it a condition that he was the first one to read Crowley's book. He could really use some good literature, too. He watched the other inspect his present some more, chuckling softly at how carefully Crowley handled the book, even when he was reading. After a while, he relaxed into his own chair, reading quietly to pass the time. Showering would be hard on Crowley, Bobby expected that much, but he hoped it'd be easier on him if it was with him there and Rufus. Gabriel, in case he turned up and didn't talk his way into another shift again, would be there, too, so he was safe. Even if it was just Bobby and Alastair's group, he wouldn't let anybody touch Crowley ever again. He never wanted to see the short, sassy brunet hurt and vulnerable again, though he was sure he hadn't seen the last of his vulnerability yet. Unfortunately.

Shower time did come, sooner than Crowley hoped it would. When the blaring alarm resounded through the halls, the brunet couldn't help but freeze, glancing at his friend -or at least he supposed Bobby was his friend by now- and the smile the other gave did calm his nerves, he couldn't deny that. "Ready to be intimidated?" he winked, smiling a little uneasily.  
"Oh yeah, can't wait for tha'." Bobby chuckled, setting his book aside on the table before grabbing Crowley's to hide it in one of the shelves in the back of the library. Nobody except for him even dared to touch the books in the back. Being a reader didn't exactly earn you respect here in jail.  
"I really don't want you to cry yourself to sleep tonight."  
"I'll be able ta handle it."  
"Sure about that?"  
"Mhm."  
"Alright then."  
"Alright."  
...  
"Shower ain't gonna come ta the library."  
"I know."  
"Walk?"  
"I am."  
"Well then ya set the new world record fer slowest movement in history."  
"Alright, alright." Crowley grumbled, taking a deep breath before he started moving, setting one foot in front of the other and glancing over his shoulder every now and then to make sure the other was still close. He stopped in front of the door to the showers, not really feeling like walking inside.  
"C'mon. 'm not gonna leave yer side." Bobby nudged the other inside gently.  
Crowley sighed and gave a small nod, hesitantly stepping inside the room that'd lead to the showers. Well, he had made it that far, so that was a good thing, wasn't it? Last time, he never reached that room...  
"See? Ain't been too bad, now, was it?"  
The brunet just shrugged and walked over to one of the benches, sitting down to take off his shoes and glancing up until Bobby sat down next to him to do the same. He just had to know Bobby was close. That'd help. He pulled off his socks and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it over his shirt as he turned away from the other.  
Bobby frowned lightly, brows furrowed when Crowley suddenly stopped eyeing him every few seconds. Either he realized Bobby wasn't going to let the other go anywhere, or... "Don' hide."  
"I don't--"  
"Don' even start. I saw already, remember? I picked yer royal ass up and brought ya to my cell." Bobby pointed out, raising a brow as he took off his own shirt.  
Crowley just sighed, nodding as he stood to get off his pants and boxers. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at nothing in particular before he looked down on himself, mouth aghast as he took in the sight. Bruises were covering his abdomen, some darker than others, concentrated around his thighs and he figured his back was even worse. Luckily, he couldn't see those. Alastair's shoe probably left its mark, too. Just as the other had left Crowley with an ugly **'A'** on his chest, the little hair he had in that spot diminished, though nobody would notice that anyway as the mark he would now bear forever begged for attention. He turned to look at Bobby and saw what he'd expected to find on the other's face. Guilt.  
"It's not your fault, you know."  
"I just wish I'd beaten that dick ta death." Bobby growled, eyeing the shorter man, or rather... his body. Covered in bruises and abrasions, his thighs.... and then there was that ugly remnant of Alastair on the Scots chest, still swollen and raw, barely healing and Bobby still wanted nothing more than to bribe his way into isolation to beat the life out of Alastair. Punch and kick him for as long as it'd take to beat the life out of him and even then, he was sure he'd keep going for as long as he could, until he was out of breath and lost all his strength.  
Shaking his head, he noticed he'd been staring and he blushed a little as staring at a naked man wasn't exactly the most subtle approach.  
"Don't say that." Crowley sighed, moving one of his hands to cover up his chest. Oh he didn't mind being naked. He had nothing to hide, except for that _thing_ on his chest. "You're not like that." he shrugged. Bobby wasn't cruel, he wasn't violent, so Crowley completely understood why Alastair was still alive after Bobby had seen what he did to him. Crowley liked that about the other, so he'd never blame him for that, liked him for being kind, even in a place like this.  
"I should've been _like that_." he growled, grabbing the other's hand to pull him into the next room. Not only because he might've wanted to do just that right from the start, but also because he wanted to show him he wasn't alone, he wasn't in danger and Bobby would protect him. This time and for as long as he lived. It was rash and maybe a bit strange, but he felt strongly for the other. He felt the strong urge to protect him, to make him feel cared for and to make him feel safe and he'd give it his all to do just that.  
Crowley let the other tug him along, grateful for it actually as he wouldn't have moved otherwise and following the other was easier than taking the steps himself. All he heard was the water running from the showers and Crowley glanced up to find a few familiar faces in a crowd, a group of several men, some known, some unknown to him but they all had their eyes on him.  
He didn't like it. To say that would be an understatement. Crowley _hated_ those eyes on him as he knew they didn't see him but the rumours, the little things that made it through the prison, from cell to cell and prisoner to prisoner. Almost proudly, Crowley let his hand fall off his chest, carrying the mark proudly for as he had survived more or less unharmed and was still standing while others would've fallen and broken by the sheer through of what he'd been through. Keeping close to Bobby, he hissed quietly when the water hit his body, though he also hadn't felt as clean as he did after that shower, in a while.  
He met Rufus for the first time now as Bobby had spoken of him freely but never introduced the two. The old man seemed nice, just as strangely kind as Bobby was and again, Crowley wondered why such men were in jail, though then he remembered he wasn't the personification of evil himself and still stuck in here for the rest of his life.  
With good company, the shower was a rather pleasant procedure and Crowley didn't miss any chance to use the things he saw to his advantage.  
"Would ya stop starin'?"  
"File a complaint." Crowley purred, winking at the other. Oh how easily he could conjure a blush up on the other's face with just threatening to keep looking at his private parts.  
"Can't yer jus' stop?"  
"You don't have to be ashamed, darling." he provocatively glanced down again, "Definitely not." Crowley grinned, slapping the other's arse as he strolled out of the tiled room again, grabbing one of the clean, white towels to dry himself off. His chest was buzzing, shampoo and soap didn't mix too good with a healing wound, but oh he felt clean now, so clean and that feeling was worth the sting.  
Bobby growled, mock-glaring at the shorter man and wincing at the slap, another low grumble emanating from his throat. "I think I liked yer better when ya were shuttin' up." he grumbled, nudging the other in the side when he walked past him, but he just quickly stepped under the spray of the shower again before rushing after the other to make sure he wasn't alone for a second. He wouldn't take his eyes off Crowley, that much was sure. "Don't ya run off, young man." he chuckled quietly, grabbing a towel for himself as he strolled over to where their clothes were piled up. Sitting down, he couldn't help but stare at the shorter man again, part of him just making sure nobody touched the other and part of him... unable to look away. Something about the other's body was mesmerizing and he couldn't tear his eyes off him.  
"And where would I run, exactly? In case you haven't noticed, there's no emergency exit somewhere around here." Crowley hummed, slipping into his boxers and _beautifully_ orange trousers again, pulling his shirt on promptly.  
"Hmm, dunno." Bobby shrugged, drying off his legs and feet before getting dressed hurriedly, not wanting Crowley to walk off again, not that he would, but just to be safe.  
"See? I'm not a stray cat or something."  
"Hm, not too sure about that." Bobby grinned, patting the other on the back before grabbing his sleeve and pulling him out of the dressing room. Rufus was good on his own and he had several other friends, so he would be fine.  
"Pah."  
"Don't ya get cocky." the taller of the two chuckled, gently tugging the other towards the cafeteria.  
"How did you manage to get me into your shower group anyway?"  
"I worked _hard_."  
"Ohh, very _hard_?"  
"Mhm."  
"I see." Crowley chuckled, smirking at the other while he slid around him to stand in front of the taller man, hand son his shoulders and on his toes as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Payment.. for working _hard_."  
"I worked _hard_ on other things, too." Bobby mumbled, a light blush covering his cheeks. A nice warmth spread right from the spot where Crowley had pecked him.  
"Oh, you did?" Crowley raised a brow, standing straight and sighing softly at the height difference. It was big, but a little annoying.  
"Yeah, did. Where d'ya think yer food in the infirmary came from? Not everybody gets nice food like tha'." the taller chuckled, "And hey, I carried yer ass back to ma cell. Yer not the _lightest_."  
"Ow, now you're just being mean." Crowley grumbled, though he couldn't help but grin. He slipped his arms around the other's neck, locking them tightly to pull himself closer, chests flush as he pressed his lips against Bobby's.  
Neither of the two moved. It was just a joke. Crowley knew. Bobby knew. Or did they? It was a sweet kiss, a gentle kiss, no urge, no movement, just .. testing the waters. To everybody around them, it'd probably looked like someone pressed pause, but to Bobby and Crowley it was much more... it was... something they both would soon want again, only they didn't know that yet. Or rather, they both did, but neither would want to admit it yet. When Crowley realized he was still kissing the other and he still kissed him, he slowly pulled away, feeling as if he was missing something already, as if he was missing a piece of being, only did he not know Bobby felt exactly the same.  
"Well then. You still wanna get that sandwich?" Crowley spoke up after a moment of rather uncomfortable silence.  
"Yeah. Yeah 'course." Bobby nodded, glancing away for a moment before walking again, pulling Crowley after him as he made his way to the cafeteria. He didn't stop and just tugged the other along to get them a tray and two sandwiches. They'd just kissed, so they could eat from the same tray. Definitely. Or not? Nah, he was sure.  
Crowley glanced around, sighing in relief when he didn't see any of the faces he wanted to avoid so badly. It was quiet as most people were now showering, so they could sit down in one of the corners and eat quietly. They didn't talk, or rather Crowley didn't. He was tense and didn't want to talk. Believe it or not, he -for once- didn't _want_ to talk.  
"Ya like the food?"  
"Yeah, it's.. I can live with it." he smiled a little. "Work _hard_ again to get us better food?" he chuckled quietly.  
"I ain't gonn' lie. Thought about bribing the cook." Bobby chuckled, glancing over his shoulder to where he could see a few of the cooks running around, handing out food to other inmates.  
When Crowley was done, he quickly finished his sandwich as he'd been busy watching the other instead of eating and piled their plates on the tray. He stood slowly, walking around the table to grab Crowley's hand again, tugging him along as he cleaned away the trays and plates and just as they were about to leave the cafeteria when there was a loud noise, the buzzing sound that'd always announce shower time, close-up time and all the other important phases, only this time he heard the Warden's voice.  
For the first time that was, but it didn't exactly impress him as he had more than enough anger waiting for when he met the Warden some day.  
 _"Due to another suicide in Cellblock C, lock-up times will be extended. Inmate 782031 will be moved to another cell. Please come and see one of our Guards. They will know."_  
Bobby froze, listening carefully. Another suicide. They'd had more of those lately. He didn't exactly believe in suicides in their cellblock and he didn't think they'd all kill themselves. Well, he knew nobody wanted to live in prison for the rest of their lives, he did, but he didn't think they'd just commit suicide. He just... "Balls." he hissed. "Tha's Rufus' cellmate." he mumbled. After a year or two, you knew the numbers of yourself and your closest friends, just to know when something was up.  
"Extended? What does that mean? Who was Rufus' cellmate anyway?" Crowley sighed. More time in the cell? Why?  
"Uh, we'll have ta wait fer the sounds and remember. They never say the times." he shrugged, "Frank. Good guy. Paranoid bastard, but a good guy."  
"Hm, why then suicide?"  
"No clue, really. Been quite a few in the last few months."  
"Lifetime in prison isn't exactly my idea of a good time." Crowley shrugged.  
"Frank's been here for 12 years. He ain't jus'..guy wouldn't jus' kill himself." he sighed, shaking his head. "C'mon." he mumbled, starting to walk again and leading the other to library. He figured Crowley would like to read some more. He'd taken that shower after all, so he'd get his reward. Stupid method, but it worked.  
Crowley smiled softly, sitting down on one of the soft chairs again and sighing in relief as Bobby handed him the book again.  
"That smell." he chuckled, brushing his fingers over the book again.  
"Glad ya like it." Bobby chuckled, flopping down in the chair next to him and grabbed his own book. Not too exciting, but there were worse books and reading helped passing the time.  
When Bobby looked up after a while, he saw Crowley fast asleep, book on his lap and his head lolled to the side. Smiling a little, he pulled the book out of his hands, careful not to wake him. Crowley needed every minute of sleep he could get. Most of the times he'd fallen asleep and Bobby had had the chance to make sure he was alright, the brunet would wake, shaking and scared, confused and he'd refuse to try and sleep again.  
Bobby hoped this time would be different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Thank you for still being here. Thank you. 
> 
> Tell me what you liked.. or not? 
> 
> Tell me about things you'd like to see? :P


	7. Dinner is served

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crobby. Teasing. Spaghetti and new inmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so sorry for being slow. I just.. I was lacking concentration and time. I'm sorry. I'll still try be better. I really will.  
> Thank you for being here now, though and I hope you enjoy the update.  
> I had 3 major things planned, but Crowley and Bobby weren't really cooperating since two of the three major events would've meant they'd go separate ways for a few hours. Separating them is impossible.
> 
> This is unbeta-d. As soon as I find a Beta, I will have them be edited.

**“Your taunted charm and your broken smile — touched me unexpectedly~”**

 

It wasn’t different. The moment Crowley had fallen asleep, Bobby relaxed slightly, smiling softly as he watched the other and got back to reading again soon. Crowley needed sleep, Bobby knew that and even Crowley did, which is why the fact he hardly let himself sleep was annoying him to no end. He couldn’t go on that way. Healing would take much longer if he didn’t sleep, didn’t give his body the rest it needed oh so urgently. The other couldn’t afford not to be at full strength, not in jail and definitely not when there was the worst kind of people out for him. Bobby would give his damnedest to protect Crowley from harm, he really would, even if that meant he had to fall back into certain…. patterns.

Bobby hadn’t always been the quite and peaceful guy he was now. In the first year he spent in jail, he’d been up and running the joint within days. Better be the hunter than the one hunted, right? Yeah, but Bobby soon had to realize being the big Kahuna _anywhere_ didn’t exactly work to his liking and he soon found himself transferred because he’d beaten an inmate close to death.

Past. His past ain’t been pretty, never will be, but whose in jail was? What mattered was, he had changed. He wasn’t the same guy anymore and he was glad not to be. Too much responsibility and just too much to pay attention to. He had to make sure to keep everybody else under control so nobody would take _reign_ when it was his territory they were on and he’d just grown tired of it, tired of the control he’d had, tired of the trouble and the fights which were necessary. Nah, now things were better. He could still fight when he had to and he did, but nothing beyond that. No more unnecessary responsibility.

 

Crowley knew why he didn’t fancy sleeping. There they were again, those hands, those.. voices. Everywhere around him. Everything was dark, but when it wasn’t, there were those hands, reaching and grabbing, hurting and holding and there was nothing he could do. He’d complain and growl, yell and shout, but they just wouldn’t go away, they wouldn’t stop hurting him. Wherever he looked, wherever he ran, they were there.

 

Bobby gasped when he heard something, shaking his head as he realized he’d dozed off himself for a minute, turning to his side to check on Crowley. He found him frowning and twitching in the chair, mumbling to himself and when he woke, gasping, sweaty and looking as if he’d just been thrown out of a 3-story building, Bobby got up and rushed to crouch in front of him, each hand on one of his cheeks. “Hey, hey, c’mon, everythin’s fine. Ya jus’ slept some.” he told him, brushing one of his hands through the other’s hair in a calming motion. “Don’tcha sweat so much or the shower’s been for nothin’.” he smiled a little before standing again, taking the book out of the other’s lap to put it back where he’d taken it from, just to crouch down again. He didn’t like how bad the other looked, the dark-brown hair a stark contrast to his pale white skin, his cheeks flushed and a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead. Bobby wiped at it with his sleeve, sighing softly. Here he’d thought he wasn’t the feelsy kind of person, but apparently, he was. Crowley brought that side of him to the surface once more. It’d been years since… nah, that wasn’t important anymore. More of his past that…didn’t matter.

Crowley reached for his forehead, wiping at it and grunting softly. “I know.” His shoulders rolled back into a shrug, hesitant and soft, barely noticeable. “I told you not to let me sleep.” the brunet grumbled, sending a small glare towards the other.

“Ya gotta sleep, idjit.”

“Why? Sleep is for the weak, love.”

“Crowley.”

“Aw, don’t you worry about me, darling.”

Bobby sighed, rolling his eyes as he stood again. “Ya ain’t gonna heal if ya don’t get some shut-eye.” he rumbled, strolling back to sit on the chair he’d sat on before. He kept his eyes on the shorter man to his side, watching him wipe at the sweat running down his temples, glistening even in the dimmed light of the library.

“I’m fine, pet. Trust me.”

“Uhuh.”

“Are you uhuh-ing me?”

“Uhuh.”

Crowley huffed out an exasperated breath, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Reasoning with that guy just wasn’t possible. “You’re impossible.”

“Trust me, babe, _you_ are.” Bobby chuckled slightly as he sank back against the chair. “We should move. Doors’re gonna close soon an’ someone’s probably still sore.” he gruntled and stood, walking around the small table again to grab the book he’d got for Crowley to hide it again. Shortly after, he returned, grinning at the other who openly pouted at him.

“You do not have to hide that book from me.”

“Oh I do.”

“You don’t. I’m not a toddler.” Crowley reasoned. He would go against their deal at some point, he knew he would, but could he blame him? With a book like that waiting for him? Nobody could not want to sniff and inhale that book right away.

“But yer sly’n I don’t trust ya.” Bobby chuckled, patting the other on the back. “C’mon.” he nudged him to walk, gently and slowly, not rushing him. They still had time. He’d planned for Crowley to still be a little sore and slower than usual.

“You know you’re hurting my feelings, don’t you?” Crowley mock-whined, nudging the other in the side as they walked and jumping slightly with every step to demonstrate how very much better he was already. He’d have time to wince later. For now he needed Bobby to stop trying to make everything better. He knew he only meant well, but Crowley didn’t like it. He wasn’t a team player. He was a loner and he’d been through enough to be able to handle something like that, too. He’d been the one to bring himself into that situation in the first place, provoking the other like that and well, killing two people. Not exactly a smart move. Even less smart was the fact he’d let himself be caught.

“I’m gonna hurt much more o’ya if ya ain’t stoppin’ with the act.” Bobby grumbled, giving a small shrug, slowing down a little when they reached the stairs up to the cells. He didn’t think Crowley wanted to be rushed up the stairs yet. Maybe in a week or two. Not only his ribs worried Bobby, no, that ugly _thing_ on his chest did, too. He needed to find a way to make it fade, some way to cover it up, hide it forever. Crowley seeing it whenever he took off his clothes wouldn’t help him heal. Not that it was Bobby’s business…. well, it wasn’t, but he felt like it was anyway.

When they’d reached the top of the staircase, Bobby stepped around the other, leading him to his cell. He stopped at the barred door, smiling softly as the shorter man stepped inside and turned to face him, a small smile on his face. He felt his heart throb at the sight. While he …. liked —very much actually— to see Crowley smile or smirk, the smile he saw was different. It hurt just seeing it. That smile wasn’t Crowley and Bobby felt anger surging up inside of him, hands clenching into fists. He _needed_ to do something or he’d go insane with anger eating him up from the inside. “Sleep.” he ordered shortly and only stepped away when he heard the first warning blare announcing the doors would close soon. Speeding up his steps, he rushed back to his own cell, swinging by Gabriel who blocked the path, “Get yer ass inside. Flirtin’ fer later.”

“Oh, someone’s grumpy again today. As always.” the blonde rolled his eyes but did as he was told anyway.

Crowley practically fell onto his bed, not even minding the uncomfortable, hard and sticky mattress. He was drained. Mentally and physically. He didn’t even notice the Guards checking in on the prisoners, him included. He just stared ahead, focusing on the small cracks in the dark-grey concrete walls, breathing slow and calm, regular. He promised himself he wouldn’t fall asleep. He couldn’t. He’d napped before anyway, right? That was enough. Apparently it wasn’t. Not even sitting on the cold, hard ground stopped the short brunet from falling asleep at some point in the night. There he was, leaned against the cold wall, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees and head resting on them as well, snoring quietly.

Bobby couldn’t sleep. His mind was racing and his heart hammering against his ribcage. He was sure his pulse was over the top and he felt on edge, more so than ever. He wanted to rip the bars apart and just go and beat that son of a bitch up. Make him spill his own guts, maybe even soil his pants in fear before he ended it. He hadn’t had thoughts like that in…. years. Not since Karen. He turned around in his bed, again and again, huffing and sighing, trying to calm himself down some, telling him Alastair would get what he deserved sooner or later. He had to. He would. He’d just rolled to face the wall again when he heard a scream. He sat up in bed right away, grunting as he hit his head. He knew that voice..

“That’s the cute, grumpy guy you’re trying to woo, isn’t it?”

“You shoulda been asleep.”

“If the bottom in your bunkbed has fleas it’s not that easy.”

“Shut yer trap.”

“Aw, someone in a bad mood? It’s not my fault there’s those bars holding you back… stopping you from kissing and cuddling that old guy you’re into. You do realize there’s young and cute guys swooning over you, yes?” Gabriel snorted, making kissing sounds before pulling himself back up on the bed.

Bobby growled, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Was that guy for real? He still hadn’t found out why exactly he was in jail in the first place, but whatever it was, he was sure it had something to do with his tricks or his big mouth.

Crowley would’ve loved to have a cell mate right at this moment. He woke in the dark, sweaty and scared, chest heaving, his pulse over the top and his heart about to leap out of his ribcage, hands shaking miserably. When he tried to wipe away the sweat covering his forehead, he winced, scowling at what he’d apparently done to himself while asleep. As it seemed, he’d tried to dig out of.. well, wherever, his nails scarped down to his fingertips, cracked and broken, bloody and sore. “Bollocks.” he hissed and pushed himself off the floor before stumbling over to his bed to sit down on. “Just perfect.” he mumbled quietly, flinching when there was a loud clank to his cell door.

“Quiet.” one of the Guards ordered. “Or I’ll come inside.”

Crowley just nodded quietly and laid down, slipping into bed again, curling in on himself and hoping the morning would come soon.

It did come.

Bobby was out of his cell even faster than the doors could slide open and he reached Crowley’s cell within seconds. “You good?”

“Sure.” the brunet grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, a quiet whine escaping his lips after all.

Bobby wasn’t stupid or blind. “Yer not s’pposed ta hurt yerself. Yer s’pposed ta heal.” he scolded lightly and crouched down in front of the other, grabbing his hands and inspecting them, scowling slightly. “Ya coulda told me showerin’ with me naked was _that_ bad. No need ta hurt yerself to not have ta shower fer a week.” he smiled lightly. Being angry or worried wouldn’t help, would it?

“Well, you wouldn’t listen.” he shrugged lightly, actually grateful Bobby let the matter slide. “So, someone’s gonna treat me to breakfast today then?” he raised a brow, smirking lightly.

Bobby stood and bowed a little, holding out his hand, “Allow me the pleasure to treat you to dinner?” he couldn’t help but smile a little.

Crowley huffed out a laugh and stood, nodding and reaching for the other’s hand to pull him along. His fingers throbbed, yes, but he’d had worse —obviously. “You better keep working _hard_ or I might try and find another sophisticated inmate.” he hummed, actually feeling cheery today —still.

“I’m always workin’ _hard_ , ya know that.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“Isn’t that the lovely pair?”

“Gabriel, jus’ go.” Bobby sighed, stopping to stand in front of the other, right next to Crowley.

“I do think I can stand where I feel comfortable, can’t I?” he raised a brow, eyeing the guy his cell mate seemed to be crazy about. Hm. Not exactly a sight in his opinion. Not with what he heard about good old Bobby. He had contacts, he heard a lot. He knew there were enough newbies about to throw themselves at his feet.

“Then get outta our way.” he grunted, pushing past him and dragging Crowley after him, only slowing when they reached the stairs that led down to the day rooms and cafeteria.

“Smooching always helps against nightmares!” the other called after them, but Bobby didn’t react, only kept dragging the other after him until he realized Crowley had been awfully quiet. He stop immediately, the other bumping into him.

“Ouch.”

“I uh…”

“What’s wrong?” Crowley frowned slightly, subtly wiping at his forehead.

“Yer body.”

“What about it? I’m handsome? Oh, love, I know that. No need to blush.”

“Ugh.” Bobby rolled his eyes, “Jus’ come an’ stop talkin’.”

“You stopped just like that.”

“I know.”

“I was just saying.”

“I friggen know.”

Crowley chuckled, rushing to walk next to the other, letting his shoulder bump into the taller man’s. “So, who was that _charming_ person?”

“Ma cell mate. Ya know’m, right?”

“Briefly.”

“Ah, Gabriel. He’s… uh.. one of the best cell mates I had, but he’s still an annoying little brat.” he chuckled lightly. He missed Rufus in his cell. Rufus had been quiet, but talkative at the right time and they never disagreed. Hah. Sighing, Bobby shrugged.

“So you swoon to him about me?” Crowley grinned, glancing around the cafeteria as they entered, something he’d started doing right after he’d come out of the infirmary.

“Sure, all night long an’ some at day.”

“So I left that much of an impression on you?” Crowley smirked, raising a brow.

“Oh yeah, thinkin’ ‘bout ya all the time.”

“Mhh, I knew it.”

“Yeah, ya did. C’mon, let’s get some breakfast.” Bobby chuckled, slinging his arm around the other’s waist to push him along and to the table they usually sat at _if_ they could be bothered to eat in the cafeteria. “Sit. I’ll go get yer some food.” he patted Crowley’s shoulder and walked away, grabbing them a tray, two plates and… oh, nice… spaghetti. He strolled back to their table, glaring at whomever tried to get close and flopped down on the bench next to the other. “There ya go.”

“Thank you, love.” Crowley purred, smiling a little. “Hope you didn’t have to work too _hard_ to acquire such a fabulous meal.” the shorter man winked, chuckling quietly before reaching for the plastic fork to pick at his food.

“Eat up. Heard dinner’s gonna be worse.”

“Worse than spaghetti for breakfast?”

“Trust me. There’s worse ta be had.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll shut up.”

“Good, now eat, idjit. Ya need the strength.” Bobby scolded lightly and started eating. He knew it was important to eat. You couldn’t be hungry in prison, not in their block, not with those other inmates around. Being hungry was being weak, which meant you were vulnerable. And that was something you shouldn’t be.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t you yeah-yeah me.” Bobby huffed, glaring a little at the other. “You better eat or I’m gonna feed ya.”

Crowley raised a brow, ears perking and lips pulled up into a smirk. “Don’t you promise such glory if you don’t intend to stand to your word.”

“Don’t test me.”

Fork clanking as it fell down to rest on the table again, Crowley sat back, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I’d never.” he grinned, lips parted, expectantly.

“Yer kiddin’ me.”

Crowley shook his head, humming a low ‘aaaah’.

“The whole prison’s present. Sure ya wanna be the fag o’the year?”

He just shrugged, wriggling his eyebrows. He didn’t care what anybody else thought of him, so long as Bobby was there. He didn’t care about anybody else. God, he hated most of the others in here, so why would he care? He knew he was better than each and every one of them.

“Fine.” Bobby huffed out a sigh and grabbed the short man’s fork, dipping it into the food on his plate, curling and rotating to pull up a generous amount of spaghetti, slowly balancing the fork and food to press against the other’s lips. “There goes the plane.” he chuckled, glad he at least had a way to make Crowley eat. If he now found a way to make or help him sleep, they’d be good.

Crowley had to stifle a laugh and it was almost impossible to keep his expression serious, but he managed to do it and let the other actually feed him. When his plate was all but a few bright red smears, Crowley grinned brightly, hints of a smirk as he licked his lips.

“Yer ‘njoyin’ that, ain’t ya?”

“Very.”

“Yer impossible.”

“You love it.”

“Sure I do. Yer lucky, I’m puttin’ up with ya.”

“You’re lucky I permit you to.”

“Oh yeah, yer right. Ain’t seen it that way yet.”

“Ask me for a new perspective on things.” Crowley grinned, watching Bobby eat. “Robert, Robert… eating like a child.” he shook his head, lapping at his thumb to wipe away a blob of spaghetti sauce.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

Crowley just chuckled, flinching when once more the blaring sirens resounded, echoing through the big cafeteria, making his ears ring. “What’s happening?”

“Dunno.” Bobby shrugged and stood, grabbing both their trays. “We got 10 to get back to the cells. Probably new people.” he hummed, leading the other to bring away their trays and then back to his cell. He made sure nobody could bump into him, hovering over him like a shield, making sure nobody touched Crowley ever again. “Don’ leave, even if them doors open ‘gain.” he rumbled before rushing to his own cell.

“Mh, romantic dinner birdie told me?” Gabriel sing-sang.

“Ya stalkin’ me?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

The doors slid closed with a metallic grunt, a scream in the otherwise quiet cell block. A few minutes later, the buzzer was the only thing to be heard, the buzzer opening the doors to the way outside of prison. Outside.

Bobby would give anything to be free again, even if only for a day. He didn’t regret doing what he did, he never would, but… he still craved the outside world. He craved being allowed to do what you wanted to do when you wanted to do it, he craved just doing as he liked, eating food he liked and read good books whenever he wanted to. They were only allowed shipments from the outside once a month and only a reasonable amount, so with Bobby being a fast reader and bored most of the day, he’d read everything he could read already by now. Movies. He never liked them before, but now… now he’d _kill_ for one.

“Oh, newbies.” Gabriel broke through Bobby’s thoughts.

“Hm? Ah, that’s unusual.” he mumbled, getting up to look outside the bars, or try to. They usually only got new inmates once a month but Crowley and Gabriel hadn’t been there for that long yet.

Crowley’s sat down on the bed, resting his back against the wall as he waited for something to happen. When he saw Guards lead by a few prisoners, he glanced out from under the top bunk to see some of them halt in front of his cell. A new cell mate? What about Alastair?

“Step inside, then keep turned and yours hands out so we can take off the cuffs.”

“Yes.” a young voice replied, shaking, sounding more scared than anything Crowley had heard in this place yet.

The clicking sound told him when the cuffs were gone and a few seconds later, feet slurred towards him and he stared at the boy for a moment, lips parted. Wow.

“Well hello, love.” he purred, smirking as he crawled out from under the top bunk and held out his hand. “Name’s Crowley.”

The young boy gave a soft whimper, taking a step away, but relaxed slightly and shook the other’s hand, smiling brightly. “Samandriel. Nice… nice to meet you.” he spoke, his voice still shaky, but a little less frightened than before. “You’re.. you’re not going to m-make me pay you f-for protection, are you?”

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh, a hearty laugh and he shook his head. “Trust me, love, if there’s one person here you don’t have to worry about, it’s me. So long as you don’t cross me, we’ll be fine.” he smiled a little. “Yours is the top bed. I’d turn the mattress though. You don’t want to know who slept on it before you.” he made a face. “Oh, and welcome.”

“Thank you.” he sighed in relief, glancing up at the mattress and nodded. “Will you assist me?”

“Sure.” Crowley nodded and turned to walk to one end of the bed, “You take that side.”

“Okay.” Samandriel nodded and together, they quickly spun the mattress around. He didn’t dare ask why, but appreciated the advice. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, pet.” the brunet hummed, sitting down again, “You might want to stay close.. there’s some none too friendly gentleman in this paradise of a place.”

“S-so, how… how does this work?”

“You mean prison?” Crowley asked, patting the mattress next to him. “Sit.”

Samandriel nodded, sitting down next to the other. “Yes, I do not know anything about this place.”

“Trust me, there’s not that much to know.” Crowley chuckled, giving a small shrug. “Haven’t been here too long either, but..I do think I know plenty to help you get comfy.”

“Thank you, really. Thank you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. A comment would make me leap in joy. 
> 
> Until next chapter. <3


	8. Allies and foes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley wants to learn how to fight and Bobby gives him Hell for it. Bobby and Crowley invite new prisoners to eat lunch. Lots of banter between everybody, really. And adorable Samandriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I am very sorry this took me like longer than a year to update. I've simply didn't have the strength to write something like this and I didn't want to half-ass a chapter just to publish something. I started this chapter three times, but never got very far. 
> 
> Until this time. Thank you all for the comments even after I didn't update in months and longer, it really helped getting me back to this story again. (Not that I ever intended to drop it, I didn't and I won't even if that means I'm sixty by the time I finish it.)
> 
> It's not the most exciting chapter, nor is it very long, but it's a start. And it's some light in the dark, the previous chapters have been very dark, so yes. :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it <3

"So yer sayin' we ain't got no choice but ta let'm deal with it?"

"I cannot say for sure. This isn't my specialty. I'm a surgeon. I'm not a therapist or neruosurgeon." Castiel shrugged, sighing softly.

"Yer right. 'm sorry."

"It is fine. I wish I could help. I do."

"He hurt himself las' night an' I ain't got a clue how ta stop'm from doin' it 'gain."

"I am not sure you can."

"I know." Bobby heaved out a heavy sigh.

"All you can do is make him feel safe, make him deal with his problems. Running is not a solution." He smiled slightly, something he wasn't really used to anymore. He'd been in a different prison for a few months and... he saw so much misery and pain. He hadn't had anything to smile about in months. Ever since... it happened.

"Thanks." Bobby nodded, patting the younger man's back. "Be careful." He nodded before he slipped out of the blue-eyed man's cell. "Wait." He peeked back into it. "Ya wanna join me'n Crowley fer dinner'n lunch? It's safer ta be'n a group."

"I would like that very much."

"'s a deal then." With that, Bobby was gone, back not to his own cell, but to find Crowley's. He'd told him not to leave it on his own and he hoped the other male had kept his promise.

"So, you're going back to that feisty little guy?"

"You again." Bobby sighed.

"So you invite the new guy to dinner but not your cell buddy?"

"Ya been busy flirtin' an' playin' round."

"Doesn't mean I don't eat. Even though I gotta admit I prefer sweets to any food in the world." A sigh.

"Ya ain't gonna find sweets 'round here."

"That's the problem."

"Fine. Yer invited ta eat with us. If ya can keep yer big mouth shut."

"What does that mean?"

"Stop talkin' about me'n him. Stop'em jokes, jus' until he's back on his feet."

A sigh. "Very well. I'll  _try_."

"Ya only get a chance like that once." Bobby said as he was walking past their cell, headed to finally go find Crowley.

Crowley was waiting already, of course. Not that the outside was all that much more enjoyable, but he didn't like being stuck in his cell. And he didn't want to spend all day waiting. Samandriel seemed hesitant to leave, too, but Crowley had expected as much. The boy looked barely even old enough to be in this place. "You can stick with us, little man." Crowley chuckled, patting the boy on the shoulder. 

"Really?" He looked as if he'd start crying, "Thank you, sir!" The younger male exclaimed, his smile lightening up the otherwise dark cell. 

"The more the merrier, isn't it?" Crowley chirped, obviously amused by the other's open admiration.

"Am I Interruptin' sometin'?"

"Oh yes, we were about to have hot, steamy sex up against  _that_  wall." He pointed at it. "Isn't it obvious?"

Samandriel threw his arms up, "N-no! We just-- I swear we weren't --" 

"Shh, love. We're just flirting." Crowley grinned, winking at Bobby, "Right, darling?"

"Told ya ta stop calling' me that." He'd started calling him pet names ever since they... kissed. Bobby didn't  _like_  it. 

"Oh, I heard. But I'm not going to stop just because you say so. Sue me." A smug and yet challenging smirk was plastered onto Crowley's face.

"Maybe I'm gonna." A grunt. 

Crowley strolled over to stand closer to Bobby and he stretched to stand on his toes to peck him on the lips. "Don't be a grump. You're scaring my adorable new cell mate." He tutted, shaking his head. "Say hello to Samandriel." 

Bobby nodded. 

"Nah-ah-ah." Crowley clicked his tongue and shook his head again. "Say  _hello_ , like humans do. Use your words. You're not a cave man, are you?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, grumbling. "Hello."

"Good boy." The shorter male grinned, "This ape is Bobby. You don't see me anywhere close, you go and find him. He'll make sure nobody touches you, right love?"

Bobby looked at the other and nodded, "Sure." Not that he felt like protecting everybody Crowley told him to, but a kid like that? Definitely didn't deserve being beaten up just for being stuck at this place. 

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't call me that. It's Bobby, I ain't you dad or teacher."

Samandriel gave a little nod, eyes trained on the floor.

Crowley quirked a brow, staring at the hunter with a look of 'where are your manners, Robert?' on his face.

Bobby shrugged.

A second brow rose, Crowley stared at Bobby expectantly.

"I'm sorry that sounded rude. Jus' don't call me sir, kiddo." He then looked at Crowley. _Happy?_

"Splendid. Shall we go see what's for dinner this lovely evening?"

"Yeah, guess we should get goin'." Bobby rumbled, not overly pleased by having to leave the safety of the cellblock again. Not that they were that much safer up there.

The group stayed together on their way to the cafeteria, Gabriel joined when they walked past Bobby's cell and Bobby left for a few minutes to come and get Castiel to follow them, too. Crowley looked back at the others and smiled softly. Their little group of outsiders, neither of them looking as if they belonged here.

It was rather quiet in the cafeteria, most people still wandering the halls instead of grabbing dinner early. They found a table to sit at, Crowley next to Bobby on one side, across the table Samandriel and Castiel sat next to each other and Gabriel stood, thought and then joined the two newbies across from Bobby and Crowley.

When Bobby saw Rufus, he stood and motioned for him to join them, but he shook his head and went to sit at a table by himself.

"He hasn't been in a good mood since I arrive." Castiel spoke up.

"That ain't your fault, Castiel. Shit's happened before you arrived, he's dealin' with it." At least Bobby hoped he did. "Gabe, you holdin' up the Fort while I show Castiel'n Samandriel where to get dinner?" He wouldn't leave Crowley by himself but didn't want to risk their table snatched away by someone else.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just don't take too long and _don't_ make out with Crowley instead of coming back."

"Shut up." Bobby rolled his eyes and stood, helping Crowley off the bench. He waited for the other two to follow and led them back to where they'd be handed trays and plates and sporks, of course.

Gabriel sat by himself, shooing off a few suitors who thought he'd like company and waved when he saw the little group return, "Miss me? Of course you did."

"Ain't nobody even noticed you were gone." Bobby returned with a smirk, setting his own and Gabriel's tray down.

"How long have you been here?" Castiel glanced around the group, attemtping to start conversation.

"Three weeks, unfortunately." Crowley sighed.

"Got here the day Crowley did. We even drove here together." He winked at him.

"He couldn't keep his mouth shut, not even in the bus. We drove for hours and all you heard was his stupid voice."

"You loved it! I'm funny. The drive would've been boring without me."

"It _was_ boring."

"Now that's a lie. You're a liar."

"How dare you? I never lie, I don't need to."

Gabriel scoffed and shook his head, "If it makes you feel better believing that."

"It does, yes."

"I came here just a few hours ago, like you did, I think." Samandriel chimed in, hoping to keep this from turning into an actual argument. He didn't like his family arguing when he was still living at home and he didn't want his new family doing the same. Were they his family? Did someone even have family in here? He hoped so. He'd like that. Crowley and the others seemed quite nice.

"I thought so." Castiel responded with a faint smile on his lips. "You share a cell with Crowley, I assume?"

"Oh, yes - how did you know?"

"I know Bobby shares his with Gabriel and I couldn't think of any other reason why you would've been invited to eat with Bobby and Crowley on your first day."

Samandriel nodded, focusing on his food again.

"You shoulda seen Crowley on his first day, already pickin' fights." Bobby chuckled.

"I wasn't." Crowley huffed, "Not my fault they're all after that accent." He hummed, smirking slightly. " _You_ included - don't even try denying it."

 "I ain't - **what**? Yeah, no. That ain't true."

"Uhuh. We'll put that to the test later, darling, _promise_."

"We ain't gonna have time for that."

"Oh, _we'll make_ time for it."

"Eat. Stop babblin'."

"Is that a blush I see there, Robert?"

"Told ya to stop callin' me that. It's Bobby."

"But it used to _be Robert_."

Bobby groaned, resting his forehead against his palm, massaging his temples. What the Hell did he get himself into? Then again it'd been years since he'd spent time with people like that. Isolation was great, but sometimes it was just that - Isolation. _It was lonely._

"Oh if that isn't the boss' new toy." Zach snickered, looking at the group with a smirk on his face. Raphael and Virgil were with him and Brady joined a few seconds after, handing Zach something to drink.

Crowley spun around to glare, ready to throw himself at the other if he _had_ to, but he had a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Y'all better leave now. Jody owes me a favor." He nodded towards one of the guards, smiling softly when she caught his eye and smiled at him. "Get you locked up in solitary with a wink an' it ain't gonna cost me anthing." He was threatening them, but his face was soft and he smiled softly at Crowley. "Get lost."

"This isn't over, Singer."

"You're right, it ain't over 'til you're locked up'n solitary until you die." That was a promise now.

The men scurried off, but not before shooting Crowley glares and hissing noises and the Scot only relaxed against Bobby's side once they'd left the room.

"That was amazing, Bobbsey." Gabriel cheered, clapping his hands in amusement.

"Shut up, idjit."

"He's right, you showed them." Samandriel nodded, looking in awe at the older man. "Is it true? Does the guard owe you?"

"Yeah, saved her life. Told me that if I ever needed anythin' all I'd have to do was ask. She's a good person."

Crowley was unusually quiet, Bobby noticed and slipped a hand around his waist. "They ain't gonna bother you for a while." They both knew it wasn't going to last long, but it was better than nothing. 

He stood abruptly, grabbing his empty tray to carry it to the _dirty dish_ counter in the back of the room.

Bobby was on his feet to follow, but stopped and spun around. "Gabe, you mind takin' Castiel and ... Samandriel back to our cell? Don't leave'm, ya hear me? I'm gonna be back soon." He ran after Crowley then, catching up by the time he had left the room and turned left towards the day rooms.

"Crowley! Wait, will ya?" He grabbed at his arm, trying to hold him back, stop him from running.

"Teach me how to fight."

"What?"

"Teach me how to fight."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You ain't ready, Crowley. You barely even sleep, you didn't heal yet."

"I'm _fine_."

"You're an idjit. I ain't gonna let you hurt yourself."

"You're gonna let **them** do it instead?"

"You _know_ I would've kept you safe if I'd known."

"I want to be able to put up a fight, Bobby."

"I saw'm. You put up a fight - you did well, Crowley."

"We saw where that got me. It's not enough."

"Later."

"No. I want it now." Crowley hissed , tugging his arm loose. "Don't try to stop me, love. You can't."

"You didn't shower in a goddamn week, Crowley. Don't tell me that's _bein' alright_ , 'cause it ain't." He didn't want to bring it up, but Crowley gave him no choice.

"I didn't have to, did I? It's none of your business. You're supposed to teach me how to fight, not change my diapers even if that's what you think you need to do." Crowley growled.

"You wanna learn how ta fight? Fine." Bobby growled right back at him, grabbing his wrist again to tug him along towards the day rooms. He could choose one Crowley hadn't seen yet, he could go for one that wouldn't remind them of what happened not too long ago, but then Crowley would hurt himself for no goddamn reason and he wasn't going to let that happen. So, he shoved the door open and pushed Crowley into the room. 

Of course it was clean, not a trace of blood left, the pillows removed and replaced with new ones - but it'd do. Bobby hated himself for it, but he saw no other way. He just ... he didn't know what else to do. It wouldn't be that bad, would it? Crowley would get scared, then angry, then hiss and go back to his cell. _Right?_

"Crowley?" 

Crowley knew he wanted this, he'd been convinced he did until he set foot into the room. His heart stopped, breath knocked out of his lungs and his legs wouldn't move. He froze - his mind racing and his heart thrumming loud in his ears.

"Crowley!" Should he touch? Should he not touch? Damnit, how the Hell was he supposed to know? He took a few tentative steps forward, halting for a few seconds when he noticed Crowley was shivering head to toe and then he practically leapt onto him, arms wrapped around him from behind.

"Don't! Don't touch me." Crowley growled, pleading even - fighting the touch to try and escape from Bobby's grip.

"It's me, idjit. Pull yourself together, will ya?" Bobby grunted, voice strained as he fought the other. Not that Crowley stood much of a chance. Bobby didn't look it, but he _was_ strong, so he managed to turn Crowley and tugged him against his chest, arms wrapped around him.  "I'm sorry." He mumbled quietly. He _hated_ apologizing. "You were bein' reckless -- I didn't know what else to do."

Crowley slowly calmed, relaxing against Bobby's chest so that the other could let go of his wrist and fully wrap around him then. "You suck as a therapist, you know that?" He mumbled, frowning.

"Good thing I ain't you therapist, then." Bobby chuckled softly, rubbing Crowley's back as he spoke.

"What are you to me, then?" Crowley quirked a brow, but didn't look up.

"Bodyguard, friend -- the guy who's gonna punch out everybody's teeth if he has to in order to keep your stupid ass safe. I can keep goin'."

"It's a very nice arse, you can't deny you've been staring."

"That's bull - didn't even notice there _was_ anythin' ta stare at."

"Oh, that's not true." Crowley snickered, his heart rate almost back to normal now, his palms sweaty but a little less cold than a few seconds ago. "Those ...suits." Yes, he called them suits while thinking of an actual suit - helped him feel a little less ugly wearing _this_ , "Don't exactly leave all that much room for imagination."

"Don't care, didn't stare." A shrug. 

"You keep telling yourself that, Robert."

"You startin' that again?"

"Starting ... what?"

"Callin' me _that_."

"But it's your name, darling." 

"Stop sayin' that."

"Saying _what_ now?"

"Jus' stop talkin' goddamnit."

"Are you blushing again?"

Bobby growled (and blushed), grabbing Crowley's face in a big hand to keep him still and pressed his lips to Crowley's rather intuitively. He didn't think he'd get to kiss him that quickly again, but somehow the situation had called for it and then he inwardly cursed, convinced Crowley kept provoking him for that reason and he fell for it. _Damnit._

Crowley curled fingers into Bobby's overall to pull him down some (Why should he be the one standing on his toes and craning his neck when Bobby could just bend down some?) and hummed happily against his lips. The kiss was slow and gentle on both sides and neither of the two planned to change that. They parted when they needed to breathe and Crowley leaned his head against Bobby's chest. "It's hard work, earning kisses from you."

"Can't just be me pullin' all the weight 'round here."

"Prick."

"Uhuh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading so far! <3 
> 
> My deepest apologies for the slight OOC for Crowley, but it's prison, so he's bound to be a little different. 
> 
> Next chapter will be up asap. 
> 
> Plus, tell me if the length is okay like that or if you'd prefer it longer or shorter? :D I always love long chapters, so...  
> 


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